


Stony 50

by anotherlongstoryshort



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, and a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:12:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 29,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherlongstoryshort/pseuds/anotherlongstoryshort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>50 words from a random word generator. 50 scenes of Stony.</p><p>Originally posted on tumblr.com.</p><p>Hits so far include drunk!Tony, blind!Tony, naked!TonyandSteve and some poor kid trying to pick-pocket Captain America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Completion

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a way to deal with writer's block, evolved and then was relegated to hiatus. Hope to write more for it soon, though.

Something had been missing since Afghanistan.

Well, in truth, it had been missing for most of Tony’s life. The only difference now was that the great big hole in his chest was there for all to see.

There were times he felt so empty. Incomplete.

Pepper had tried to take it away but they had both known they were doomed from the start. He would never change into the man she wanted. Deserved.

Steve had been a surprise. Initial hate had given way to camaraderie and friendship. Friendship had given way to love.

And it was only here, in strong arms, listening to steady breaths and a steadier heart, that Tony Stark began to feel whole.

Complete.


	2. Executive

Steve had been confused at first.

Tony didn’t run the company? But it was his name. His father’s name.

He had maybe, possibly been a little bit angry too. Because he knew how much Stark Industries had meant to Howard. How much his work had meant to the world.

It led to a fight. Most things had in those first few weeks of knowing each other. When they hadn’t known how to act outside of battle, when Tony had been abrasive and sneering and Steve had been controlling, challenging, treating the team like his soldiers because that’s what he was used to.

But this had been different. Not for the first time, he had compared the genius to his father and Tony had snapped. He’d cried. Angry tears, sure, but…

Tony never cried.

The whole story came out soon after. How the years had drastically changed the old friend he remembered, made him cold and distant, even more buried in his work with no time for a son who didn’t understand.

How he’d died while Tony was still trying to prove he was good enough to carry on his legacy. How a man called Obadiah Stane had stepped in and kept the place running until Tony was ready and how that same man had tried to have Tony killed when he became too good.

How it had all seemed so pointless after that. So heartless it left a bitter taste in Tony’s mouth.

Much like hearing about the palladium poisoning left one in Steve’s because, really, when was the world going to stop trying to kill this guy?

And Tony had given the company to Pepper. She been running it in all but name for years anyway, who better to take over once he was gone? Even after he saved himself (again) Tony hadn’t even thought about asking for it back.

He was happy inventing gadgets and protecting the world. He was happy seeing Pepper get the recognition she deserved.

The next time Steve had see the CEO, he had given her a kiss to the hand and a nod of thanks before walking off without explanation.


	3. Nominating

The Man of the Year award.

Tony had already won it before. Steve had never heard of it. And this year they were both nominated.

There had been an awkward moment of silence when they found out. Steve had deduced from the letter he received that it was a pretty big deal. He had looked at Tony with a touch of guilt because he didn’t want them to go head-to-head over this.

If it meant a lot to his partner that he defend his title then he would tell them he didn’t want it.

And then Tony had started laughing.

“Well, Cap, think we should dress to match?”

Then Steve had laughed too and kept laughing, dying down to quiet giggles as it became tough for even him to breathe and Tony went to get a bottle of champagne.

They were still grinning like idiots when they stepped out onto the red carpet together on the night of the awards, posing for photographs and fielding questions.

When the inevitable “Mr Stark! How would you feel to lose your crown to your boyfriend?” was called out from the crowd, Steve turned subtly to catch the answer.

Tony smiled, a glint in his eye and shrugged. “I’ve been in the spotlight forever. I don’t mind sharing it a little tonight. And besides-” He looked over to Steve and his smile became that much sweeter. “- it’s a win/win for me. Either I get to be Man of the Year or I get to congratulate him with a kiss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They do get longer, I promise.


	4. Butter

Every morning Steve would wake at five precisely. It was a habit that refused to go away, even after seventy years. Depending on whether or not he was alone in bed, he would get up or cuddle into Tony, content with dozing for a while and breathing in the other man.

He would have the same breakfast six days a week. Cereal, coffee and an apple. On Sundays he made pancakes, an art that had taken much perfecting on the modern stove.

Then he would go to the gym and run on a treadmill or beat up some poor punching bags (sand filled ones that Tony got delivered weekly because Steve preferred them to the holographic ones the rest of the team used) until lunchtime when he would go drag Tony from his lab or his bed.

It was a nice routine. One that felt comfortable and relaxing. It was also still very new.

He’d had a lot of routines over the years, particularly in the military where everything had been run on a tight schedule, or else.

But a discussion with friends over a few drinks led him to realise which one he missed the most.

Clint, Bruce, Tony and he were having a quiet night in for once. Glasses of good scotch, video games for later, and just a relaxing chat while they reveled in having some peace.

Talk turned to childhoods. Tony told them about his first engine, Bruce about baseball, Clint made them laugh with a circus story or two and Steve talked about the diner.

Every Sunday, after church, his parents took him to Dinah’s Diner where he would get a small stack of pancakes and coat them in the best butter he’d ever tasted.

“It was creamy but salty at the same time and it used to melt really quickly and run down the sides…” he trailed off, blushing at the amused looks he was receiving for his bright-eyed love of a dairy product.

That Sunday he woke up at his normal time, snuggled into Tony a little before kissing his forehead and going to make his pancakes.

He didn’t even notice the different brand until he took his first bite.

For a moment he stared in shock, hardly daring to believe it. They tasted the same. Exactly the same.

“It’s Irish.” Tony’s voice came from the doorway and he turned to see him looking almost bashful. “From what you described… well, I’d only had that before at a hotel that imported the stuff from County Mayo so… if you don’t lik-mmph!”

Steve cut him off by striding quickly across the room and covering his mouth with his own. “This…” he breathed. “… is the sweetest thing…”

“Mm.” Tony licked his lips with the hint of a smirk. “Creamy and salty, actually.”


	5. Signaling

Flash. Flash. Flash.

They had seen Tony fall, swatted from the night sky like a ragdoll. All they got from his end of the comm line was static, buzzing in Steve’s ears and somehow a much more terrible sound than the screeches of their opponent.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Captain America launched himself at the overgrown pterodactyl-like creature with extreme prejudice, attacking viciously and only dimly aware he wasn’t the only one.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

A green blur smashed into the monster’s side. Lightning crackled and struck overhead. Gunfire echoed and blades gleamed. Arrows whistled through the air, hitting their mark everytime.

It was over in a minute. For Steve, a sixty-second continuous mantra of Tony… Tony… Tony…

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Clint had been the first to see the lights. Two tiny dots in a blacked-out scene, sparking on and off in a rhythm that only one team member recognised.

Dash dot dash dot.

C.

Dot dash.

A.

Dot dash dash dot.

P.

Steve ran, hurtling through the smoke and debris before the others even registered that he had moved. They weren’t far behind, though, and found him kneeling at his lover’s side, carefully removing the golden faceplate whose eyes were still flashing.

Tony smiled tightly up at him, no doubt in agony from the leg that was pointing in a direction it really shouldn’t and whatever damage was underneath the huge crack in his chest armour.

“Knew… you’d… get it…” he wheezed.

Steve hushed him and pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes scanning for any other visible damage. Quietly enough that only Tony and Natasha (who had the tact to pretend not to) could hear, he murmured in a relief-strained voice.

“And you’re supposed to use SOS, idiot.”


	6. Slogan

Tony was tinkering with the engine, making the last few necessary checks. Bruce was standing a short distance away, looking over technical drawings and trying not to laugh.

Steve was glaring at them both.

“I don’t want you to do it.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve been making your thoughts on the matter perfectly clear for the past two hours.”

“Pepper told me what happened the last time you tried to race. You have drivers. Let them do what they’re paid for.”

“Steve, this isn’t like last time. There isn’t some psycho out to get me.”

“There is always some psycho out to get you.”

Bruce snorted before shrinking back from the twin expressions of displeasure aimed his way.

Steve sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Tony… is there something you’re not telling me?”

The worry and strain were clear in his voice and that more than anything made Tony get serious.

“What? No. Why would there be?”

“Because…” The blond bit his lip, looking away. “Because you only do really reckless stuff if you think there’s no point in trying to stay safe.”

Tony blinked. Bruce started to think he really shouldn’t be here.

“Oh, Steve, no, I… Look at me. Please?” Tony walked around the car and put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders until he met his eyes. “This isn’t like that, okay? We built the car from scratch and I just wanted to be the one to drive it. Nothing will happen to me and I’m not out looking for trouble, believe it or not.”

Steve perked up a little, smiling slightly. “Promise?”

Tony pecked his lips. “Promise. And besides! I have the most awesome team ever. This race is in the bag, Spangles.”

He grinned and made to turn away before freezing. “Oh my god.”

Bruce frowned. “What is it?”

“I’ve got it! Our team slogan!” He was laughing now, looking smugly triumphant. “‘The Stark Spangled Banner’!”


	7. Warranty

“In business and legal transactions, a warranty is an assurance by one party to the other party that specific facts or conditions are true or will happen; the other party is permitted to rely on that assurance and seek some type of remedy if it is not true or followed.” - Wikipedia

~

“Now, Mr. Stark, there’s no need for language like that.”

Everything about this man was greasy. Even Steve could tell that through his drug-induced haze. Greasy hair, greasy voice and an overall slippery attitude that made him want to dangle him off the nearest rooftop by his ankles.

Unfortunately, he was currently chained to a wall and finding it difficult to see straight.

“I’m a business man, just like yourself.” Tony’s voice exploded into expletives through the tinny speaker of the phone Greasy was holding. “All I’m interested in is the money. Think of this as just another simple transaction. You give me what I want and Blondie here will be returned no worse for the wear.”

And that was complete bullshit. If you wanted money you snatched a rich kid on his way home from school. It made Steve sick to his stomach but it was true. You do not hire ten men to ambush Captain fucking America in the middle of an evacuation effort, pump him full of a specialized toxin and then proceed to taunt one of the most dangerous geniuses on the planet and his group of superhero friends.

This was personal. It had to be. Steve just couldn’t figure out why.

His suit had been taken while he was still out of it. No doubt they’d suspected SHIELD or at the very least Tony had some sort of tracking device sewn into the fabric.

In fact there were eleven in total.

But his suit was gone and Tony had no way to find him and Steve thought he might be panicking just a bit because all he could think of was how many dirty jokes his absent partner would make about him chained up in just boxers if he were here.

“Tony…”

It was barely more than a breathless gasp but his captor heard and turned and wow had he really still been talking the whole time because Steve was finding it hard to concentrate or hear anything but his own erratic heartbeat any more.

And suddenly there was something cool pressed against his ear.

“Wakey-wakey, Cap old buddy!” Don’t call me Cap. Tony calls me Cap. “I think someone wants to say hello!”

“Steve? Talk to me honey, please.”

The twinge of guilt at the pain and panic in Tony’s voice was enough to sharpen Steve’s awareness, just a little. He never wanted to be the reason he sounded like that.

“H-hi. Sorry I missed our d-date…” he managed, hating how weak he sounded, loving the relief in the laugh coming down the line.

“You can make it up to me another night.”

Steve chuckled weakly too, feeling immediately better about his situation. Because Tony was there and he was looking and there was no way in heaven or hell he was going to give up.

He could physically feel the smile reaching his eyes before the butt of a pistol slammed into his cheekbone and the phone was snatched away.

“Enough chit-chat.” Greasy snarled, a good deal of his composure gone. He seemed to realise that letting the men talk may have been counter-productive to his aims. “I want my money, Stark.”

Steve couldn’t make out any more of the conversation and the corners of his vision were starting to darken. He thought Greasy looked suddenly nervous and looked to be asking Tony something but he really didn’t have much time to contemplate that before one side of the room effectively shattered.

Iron Man strode through the opening, not even pausing to survey the damage and instead dragging Greasy up into the air from where he’d fallen by his lapels.

Gentle hands were tending to Steve and he thought he recognised Clint’s cologne but he only had eyes for the face of his boyfriend, just revealed by his armour.

“Your mistakes were threefold. Well, actually, you made the biggest mistake when you decided to take someone I care about from me but let’s stick to the less obvious, shall we?” A violent shake until the coward nodded. “First, you took his clothes. No one gets to see that body but me, comprende? Good. Second, you assumed that there is any system in the world I can’t hack if I set my not inconsiderable mind to it, regardless of how ‘untraceable’ it is deemed by whatever idiots wrote it. And third, personally my favorite reason for grinding your bones to make my bread.”

Tony was wearing an expression usually reserved for people he overheard calling Bruce a monster, or Thor stupid or Clint a traitor.

“You tried to make this about the money which was a really stupid fucking thing to do because I couldn’t give a damn about the state of my many bank accounts but when you reduce the man I love to something to be bought and traded? That’s when I get pissed.”

And with that he smashed his free metal-plated hand into the side of Greasy’s head.


	8. Bore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot! Sort of.

There had been six times in his life where Tony Stark had good reason to contemplate suicide.

The first time he’d given the idea any serious thought had been in high school. Everyone made a big deal out of the fact he graduated and went off to MIT at the age of 15, but few ever stopped to think about the implications of going through high school when all your classmates were at least two years older than you and a great deal bigger. Even in his swanky, great for the public image and insanely expensive private school, the bullying was horrible. It didn’t matter that he was Tony Stark and that his father could probably have all of theirs fired because they knew he would never tell. He’d snuck up to the roof in the dead of night and stared over the edge, not quite able to throw himself over. He wasn’t sure, but Tony had a theory he had stopped himself simply because he wanted to live long enough to outgrow his father’s shadow.

The next time had been dumb and reckless, even by Tony’s standards. A college senior, almost too young to be driving, definitely too young to be drunk and completely failing to deal with the fact his parents’ plane had crashed, killing all on board. He felt alone in the world for the first time in his life. Wrapping his car around a lamp-post had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

There had been times during his imprisonment in Afghanistan where death seemed like the honest to God best option. Guilt over the realisation of what his weapons were doing to the world, the bitterness that came with the knowledge that no one was going to find him and really just the overwhelming strain of daily torture made the idea of yanking out the battery from his chest oh so appealing. Yinsen had stopped him. Had convinced him he had a second chance to make amends. He reminded Tony that giving up was something that he hated to do.

The fourth time was perhaps a moot point since he had been dying anyway. More than once he had considered putting a bullet in his head, knowing it would be a lot cleaner and quicker than the the slow, painful end the palladium seeping into his bloodstream was going to give him. He was almost grateful to the people who had been demanding he hand over his suit. Having something he needed to focus on, to fix and find a solution for, had stayed his hand. Hanging around long enough to make sure his technology and his company went to nice, trustworthy folks like Pepper and Rhodey gave him the time to find a cure, admittedly with a little help, and his life became worth living again.

Fifth, he was happy to acknowledge, hadn’t been as entirely selfish as the others. True, a good deal of his reasoning behind it stemmed from his authority issues and obsession with proving people wrong but mostly he just really didn’t want New York City to become a crater.

Most recently had been in the heat of battle where, joy of joys, the enemy had armour-piercing weapons. As a result, the Hulk was the only one on the ground, smashing things apart and just generally doing what he did best. The other Avengers pulled back and up, taking pot shots from on high. Clint had joked that now they all knew what it was like to be him. It was a contained situation. Hulk had herded the bad guys of the week into a dead end and now it was just a matter of time before they would surrender or be defeated. Until they heard the screams. Two kids, who had probably been too scared to evacuate when the police cleared the streets, were trapped under a car and being advanced upon now that they’d drawn attention to themselves. And Steve, stupid, wonderful, protective Captain America, had swung down the fire escape like an Olympic gymnast and put himself between the children and the attackers. Unfortunately, since they had no idea if his shield would be effective or not, Tony and the rest of the team were pretty sure they were about to see him get ripped apart. The Iron Man suit was not effective against the weapons, as illustrated by a ruined helmet lying on a street somewhere, cut almost in two. Despite that little fact, Tony had every intention of jumping down there after his idiot of a crush/sort-of-partner/best friend and intercepting the spear levelled at him. In fact, Thor had to wrap his arms around him and hold on in order to stop him. Thankfully, the shield held.

So yes, Tony was perfectly familiar with the lure of taking one’s own life. And right here, in this moment, he seriously thought another instance was going to be added to his list.

Because this man, an idiotic senator from Buttfuck, Nowhere, who was droning on about nothing of even remote importance was the most boring person Anthony Edward Stark had ever had the displeasure to meet.

Tonight was awful. Just awful. He hated these pointless fundraisers. Hated being surrounded by simpering fools who wanted his money or his influence or to get their picture in the papers. He hated dressing up like a penguin and having his drinks regulated and faking smiles.

Most of all he hated that he was being dragged away from his new boyfriend who looked uncannily like a kicked puppy whenever Tony had to go somewhere without him.

“Excuse me?”

Tony snapped out of his reverie. It couldn’t be…

It was. Captain Steve Rogers was standing behind him in a crisp designer tux with a politely serene smile, and looking awfully apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Senator, but a situation has arisen and I need to borrow Mr. Stark for a few moments.”

The other man blinked stupidly and opened his mouth, maybe to protest, but Tony would never know because his arm was firmly taken by the tall blond and used to tow him away from the crowd.

His first real smile of the night split Tony’s features. “I’m not gonna lie, Cap, I don’t care if we’re about to face impending doom, I will be forever grateful for that interruption.”

Steve smiled himself and, oh gods was he blushing? Yes, he was. Okay, well that was the most adorable thing ever.

“Actually, there isn’t a situation. I, er, decided to come because I missed you and, well, you looked pretty unhappy so I just…” he trailed off with a shrug as Tony beamed at him.

“I could kiss you, Steve Rogers.”

“Well, why don’t you?”

“Oh yeah…” They were well out of sight of the party-goers now, secreted away in a darkened corridor. “I get to do that now.”

So he did.


	9. Toe

Steve was pacing. He had been pacing for the best part of two hours and knew he should probably stop with the pacing but the pacing was the only thing currently stopping him from killing a teammate.

Namely Clint, who was sitting with his head in his hands and trying to ignore the glares sent his way.

“Steve…” Bruce tried. “Maybe you should sit down…”

“I don’t want to sit down.” he snapped, knowing he sounded childish but not really caring at all. Tony was in surgery.

Bruce gave it another go. “The doctors said his chances are extremely good. We got him here quickly and it wasn’t completely severed so they only have to do a revascularization…”

“Oh, is that all?!” Yelling at an already tense Bruce Banner was not the smartest thing Steve had ever done. He was so on edge with worry for his boyfriend that he was mad at everyone. One person more than most. “He wouldn’t even need to be here if someone hadn’t shot his toe with an arrow.”

Clint groaned loudly from behind his hands and looked up guiltily. “I said I was sorry.”

“You cut off his toe!”

“He moved!”

“Oh, so it’s his fault, is it?” Steve towered over the archer, looking murderous.

Clint gulped audibly. “I was… Those miniature robots were tearing up the lab! I-I shot at one at the same time Tony kicked it and it just… happened.”

Steve huffed and turned away, grumbling about how the first time he’d known Hawkeye to miss a shot it just had to hit Tony by accident.

The three men stayed in much the same state until a scrub-wearing doctor entered the waiting room wearing a tired smile.

Bruce and Clint leapt to their feet and Steve tensed to the point of breaking.

“He’s going to be fine.” The young surgeon assured them. “The surgery went well. We’ll be keeping him here for the next few days to monitor his blood circulation and to ensure he keeps his foot elevated but there’s no reason he shouldn’t be up and walking again in two to three weeks.”

A huge sigh of relief came from the three Avengers.

“Can we see him?” Steve asked anxiously.

“I’d prefer if we kept the visitors to one at a time while he sleeps off the anaesthetic.”

There was, of course, no question of who was going to sit vigil at the billionaire’s bedside. Steve followed the doctor out, shooting a parting scowl in Clint’s direction.

Once he was gone, Bruce chuckled lightly. “You are so dead.”

“It’s not Steve I’m worried about.” The SHIELD agent had gone very pale. “Tony will keep him from doing any real damage. But do you realize what Fury’s going to do to me when he finds out I put Iron Man out of commission?”

The look of sheer horror on his face just made Bruce laugh harder.


	10. Event

Steve used to love the Fourth of July.

It was a celebration. It was music and lights and fun that made the whole city glow.

It also happened to be his birthday, which earned him a good deal of ribbing from the rest of the team when he told them Captain America was in fact born on Independence Day.

This year however, he had a problem.

This problem had made itself known a few months previously, at New Year. Stark Industries hosted a huge party and of course all the team were invited, mainly because Tony wanted to laugh at Thor in a suit.

At the culmination of the countdown and as everyone toasted midnight, a firework display started outside. Everyone ran to the balconies, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing at the glittering colours lighting up the night sky.

Everyone, that is, except Steve.

He’d heard of shell shock, seen soldiers affected by it, even, and was aware that it was known as PTSD nowadays and a lot more was understood about it. At the moment of the first explosion, though, all he could think was ‘oh God, not again, no, I don’t want to be back there’.

Flashes of memories clouded his vision and disembodied screams rang in his ears and there were too many people and where was Tony, he couldn’t find Tony!

Bruce, hanging back from the party of people, saw him and got him out and calmed down before anyone else saw. He never told anyone, not even Tony, and trusted Bruce to do the same.

It was different from loud noises during fights. Then he had adrenaline and instinct on his side. Then he was already in a battle state of mind. It didn’t feel like he was being attacked, it felt like he was fighting back.

But in a situation where he wasn’t fighting, where it wasn’t expected and the threat to him was imaginary, he broke down.

So this year he was dreading his birthday.

He was dreading the party Tony was bound to throw, despite being told he didn’t want a fuss. He was dreading the fireworks that would be going off outside, hundreds of noisy reminders of war he would be expected to watch. He was dreading everyone finding out how weak he was.

He was surprised then, when he finally dragged himself back to the Tower after avoiding the place all day, to find his boyfriend, alone, wearing that red shirt Steve loved and the cologne he got him for Christmas, a bottle of champagne on ice.

And looking guilty.

“Um, Pepper wanted me to… well, she started planning this big, black-tie event. It was… quite the affair but…” Tony swallowed while Steve just stared at him from the doorway. “I… I don’t like fireworks. And with everything outside I was hoping… you might be okay with a night-in instead?”

And he looked so hopeful and embarrassed and utterly adorable that there was nothing else Steve could do but cross the room and kiss him senseless, gasping out how perfect that was.

They talked, later, in low voices and tangled up in sheets.

Tony hadn’t been able to watch the displays since flying home from Afghanistan. He told Steve with a half-smile that IEDs did that to people. The super soldier, in return, re-counted the flashbacks he had of the people he’d lost and the horrible images of the people he could still lose.

They held each other, warm and together, the walls around the keeping the bangs and pops and whistles where they belonged. Outside.

In here nothing could hurt them.

“Happy birthday, Cap.”


	11. Term

It had always been an insult.

Tony Stark was a genius. He was. There was no getting around that. And that was why people always delighted in proving him wrong. That, in their eyes, dragged the boy wonder down to their level. To beneath them, even.

So Tony got very good at hardly ever being wrong.

The problem was, of course, that not even he could possibly be an expert on every subject known to man. And he did, on occasion, find himself at a loss during a conversation about political turmoil in Burma or the latest bill proposal from the guys who claimed pizza was a vegetable.

He would get a look of surprise, quickly followed by an often ill-disguised sneer and ‘I thought you would know all about that.’

The second his back was turned the word would be uttered and it would follow him. It would hang over his head until he got to his lab where he could prove them wrong.

Because he was Tony Stark. He built the Earth’s most advanced and ecologically sound energy source from spare parts while he was dying in a cave. He revolutionized AI programming and had the most sophisticated (and sarcastic) system in the world running his house. He was freaking Iron Man.

He didn’t realize until one such instance, where he had worked for three days straight and may have forgotten his last meal. Or four.

He didn’t realize until his irate boyfriend slung him over his broad shoulder (and that squeak Tony made was highly dignified, thank you very much), carried him upstairs and tucked him into bed.

He didn’t realize until Steve ruffled his hair and whispered the word to him in the dark before joining him and holding him close.

He didn’t realize.

Being called an idiot wasn’t an insult any more.

It was a term of endearment.

With just Steve, it was a synonym for ‘love’.


	12. Caffeine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, laughed obnoxiously when this came up.

It was no secret that Tony was a bit off a caffeine addict.

He loved coffee. He made a habit of going multiple days living off nothing but coffee.

He loved the smell of a freshly brewed pot, the sheen of light reflecting off the dark liquid’s surface and the bitter taste on his tongue.

But most of all, he loved how it made it possible for him to stay awake. The buzz he got from his first sip and the comfortable feeling of being sustained for another hour or two, of being able to continue his work.

Steve did not love Tony’s caffeine addiction.

True, it was nice when he kissed him and his lips tasted of coffee. And he liked the bright smile he would get for bringing him a cup in bed the morning after a night together. And he thought it was adorable how Dummy could be counted on to make a mistake with any and everything except Tony’s coffee order. Not to mention how every Starbucks within a five-mile-radius put a little star on his cup and greeted him like an old friend.

Though that may have more than a little to do with the $100 tips he would leave.

But the problem with an addiction, to anything, is the withdrawal when you can’t have it and the dependency when you can.

So Steve really didn’t like finding Tony standing up, asleep, in the kitchen at 2pm. He didn’t like when he would wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. He didn’t like how Tony would get irritable and snappy if he hadn’t had time for any coffee or sleep.

He knew as far as vices went, it could be a lot worse. Tony really didn’t drink as much alcohol as people seemed to assume. And his playboy days were obviously over and done with now.

And he knew he sounded pretty selfish and was acting like a child when he tried (unsuccessfully) to switch out the regular stuff for decaf and not get caught.

And he knew there was no point in arguing over the matter, despite how many perfectly sound arguments he could make about Tony’s health and sleeping pattern.

And he knew that blushing furiously when Tony laughed at his efforts didn’t help things at all.

And most of all, he knew he was being a massive hypocrite when Tony was on another business trip (his third that month), or confined to a hospital bed without visitors (because that stupid toxic gas just had to get through the one gap in the Iron Man suit), or they just hadn’t had time to see each other in forever (because Steve was helping train new SHIELD recruits and Tony was helping Bruce with his latest project) and he went to a coffee shop and got Tony’s order and sat quietly sipping and admitted to himself that maybe, in those times he couldn’t have his boyfriend, but he could have this, that he maybe loved coffee a little bit as well.

And he knew Tony knew it too.


	13. Smart

Each of the Avengers was smart in their own way.

Bruce and Tony were geniuses. Obviously.

Clint could calculate angles, wind speed and distance into every shot he took in mere seconds. Often less. And on top of that he was street smart. Put the man in a middle of a city he’s never been before and where nobody likes him and within ten minutes he’ll have located a food source, hiding place and a way to contact who he needed to.

Natasha was quick. She could be presented with a load of seemingly unrelated information and make one and one equal two every time. And if they didn’t? She would manipulate who she had to in order to fix that.

Thor, while still regularly confused by many things on Earth, adapted well. And in most things Asgardian, he had a good working knowledge. Things that would baffle the average human had been basic learning for him since childhood. So yes, Thor was smart.

Steve knew all this and would be the first to argue should anyone challenge it. Especially in Tony’s case, which happened far more often than he would like.

But he didn’t think much of himself in the way of brains.

He wasn’t dumb, he knew that. And he knew he was quick at picking up on things, but that was the serum, not him. Not to his mind.

He got average grades at school. He never stood out. Not before he became Captain America.

Any time Tony was talking about his work, most of it flew straight over his head. He never understood how his cellphone was supposed to work. It took an embarrassingly long time for him to figure out the television remote. And the microwave… well, he hadn’t quite got the hang of that yet.

So when he saw Tony was frustrated, and he knew it was because he couldn’t figure something out, he also knew he couldn’t help because, hey, how the hell was he supposed to understand?

But, because he wasn’t smart, he tried anyway.

“Tony?”

The darker man turned to him with a strained smile. “Hey, Cap. What’s up? Oh shit, we weren’t supposed to do something were we?”

“No, no!” Steve rushed to reassure him because his face had fallen dramatically and he could almost hear the internal monologue of ‘I fucked up. Again.’ starting up in Tony’s head. “I just… you’ve been down here all day. I wanted to see if I could help.”

Tony blinked. “Oh.”

He smiled and it was that special smile he reserved for when Steve was being particularly adorable and he looked a little better already.

“Thanks for the offer but I don’t think there’s much you could do.”

Steve sighed. “That’s what I thought. But maybe I could tidy up or bring you some food or something? I know I’m not smart…”

“Who says you’re not smart?” And now Tony was frowning and looked a bit mad and, okay, when had that happened?

“Uh, me?”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

He got a shrug in response and suddenly he was in front of Steve, hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eye.

“Steve Rogers, you are one of the smartest fucking guys I’ve ever met.”

The blond snorted and shrugged off Tony’s hands.

“Tony, I know the people you know. And you work with the world’s top scientists and engineers on a regular basis. It’s fine.”

“No, it isn’t if you honestly believe they hold a candle to what you can do.” He had that look. The wild, earnest one that was half pout, half indignation and usually meant someone, somewhere should be very scared. “Steve, do you have any idea how many lives have been saved because of your brains?”

Steve blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Honey, you’re… You’re a tactical genius. You can figure out a civilian evacuation plan, co-ordinate a team strike and analyse the odds of a situation in five seconds flat. I’ve seen you do it.”

“That…” The super soldier sighed. “That’s just the serum doing its job. I’m programmed for battle remember?”

“And I’ve read your files, remember? Quick thinking, the ability to adapt, it was part of the reason you were selected.” Tony cocked his head, seeing he wasn’t getting through. “Alright, forget the official stuff. Do you know how few people there are who can go up against me in a game of verbal ping pong and come out on top? Not to brag, but most have to resort to threats of physical harm to stop me from wiping the floor with them.”

Steve had to smile at that.

“You always know the exact words needed to diffuse a situation. You beat Bruce at chess. You actually understand what comes out of Thor’s mouth 99% of the time. You do the freaking New York Times crossword puzzle for crying out loud!” Tony was full on beaming now and Steve was blushing to his roots. “Now, I’ll say it again. You. Are. Smart. So come help me figure this out.”

He started pulling him over to a board full of intimidating-looking figures and diagrams.

“But… I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“That’s okay.” Tony grinned at him. “Neither do I.”


	14. Eyesight

“Um, Captain?” Tony’s voice crackled through the comm line.

Steve used his shield to deflect the pixie flying straight at his face. Yep. Pixies. They were fighting pixies.

Well, strictly speaking, they were aliens who had flown through a portal some scientists in Delaware had created by accident and had no idea how to close it. But, as Clint had so eloquently said: “They’re small, they’re blue, they’ve got freaking wings and pointy ears. Let’s just call the damn things pixies and take them out.”

The Captain kicked out at another that was snapping at his leg and growled into his mic.

“What, Tony?”

“Any chance you can see me right now?”

“Not right at this second, no.” Steve paused, a lull in the oncoming swarm giving him a second to process. “Why?”

Tony had called him Captain, a rare occurrence outside the bedroom. He wasn’t being snarky or, well, annoying. And he was fairly certain he could hear faint cursing coming down his line.

“Because I… can’t. See me. Or anything, really. I think my helmet’s broke. Or my head. Either one is pretty problematic considering little winged devils keep attempting to body slam me and I don’t know where to fire.”

“Stark, are you kidding me?!” Natasha’s irritated tone clearly stated that he better not be. Steve groaned.

“Alright. Clint? Do you have eyeball on Iron Man?”

“Gimme a sec.” the archer grunted, sounding like he was running. “Okay, Tony, I’ve got you. Your eye lights are off so hopefully it’s just the helmet. Though the dent on the back is mildly disconcerting.”

“You don’t say.” Tony snarled before he yelped and Clint sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Ouch.”

“What?! What’s going on?” Steve was panicking now but couldn’t move far from his position without projectile fairies knocking him back again.

“Erm… Hulk may have just gotten himself involved… and hit Tony… I’m pretty sure it was an accident, though.”

“I’m okay. I’m good. It’s… all good… ow.”

Steve resisted the urge to facepalm while Natasha swore at Clint in Russian.

“Aw, c’mon, Tasha. That’s harsh. I can’t really do anything. Damn things are moving too fast for me too hit them. The good news is that they seem to be leaving Tony alone now. A big green distraction will do that.”

“The ones here are flying off.” Natasha updated. “I think they’re headed to your position.”

“I’m not surprised.” Clint chuckled. “The big guy’s just squashing them. They can’t get a hit in.”

“So they called back-up.” Steve concluded, noticing the ones hovering around him were leaving too. “Clint, think if you can get Tony out of there Hulk will manage on his own?”

“Already on my way.”

“I am still conscious here, guys.”

“And I want to make sure you stay that way.”

“You two are so adorable.”

“Shut it, Birdseye.”

“Right back at you, Tin Can.”

“Steve, would you hold it against me if I shot them both?”

“Fury might.”

“Steve, I’m wounded. You’d really let her shoot your beloved?”

“Yep.”

Clint sniggered. Tony’s pout was almost audible.

“I could be blind here! Think how guilty you’ll feel later for being mean.”

Steve smiled at the humor in his boyfriend’s tone, making it clear he was fine.

“I promise to make it up to you if that’s the case.”

“Okay, I’m he- how the hell did you get upside down?”

“… physics?”

“Clint just grab him and get out of there. I’m moving to you.”

“Same here. Try not to kill each other.”

“Aye-aye Cap. Ow! What was that for?”

“Only I get to call him Cap.” Tony grumbled.

Steve’s smile stretched to a grin.


	15. Flood

Arms wrapped around Tony’s middle from behind, the aroma of the coffee he was brewing mingling with the scent of old leather, pencil shavings and chalk.

“Mmm, you smell good.” He leaned back into his partner.

Steve smiled and kissed his cheek. “You don’t.”

Tony scrunched up his nose. “You’re mean.”

“You haven’t showered in two days and are saturated in engine oil and god knows what else. I am honest.”

They both held their composure for about three seconds before breaking into giggles.

“Fair enough.” Tony turned in the embrace so he could smile up at him properly. “I promise to shower the second I’m done fixing Jarvis’ coding, okay? He’s been on the fritz since we used that EMP last week.”

“Well…” It should not be possible for a man that tall to look that bashful. “I was actually thinking more along the lines of a bath. Together. Now.”

Tony gulped. “Now?”

“The taps are running.” Steve grinned and started walking backwards towards the stairs, bringing his boyfriend with him. “I’m sure your coffee can wait.”

“I drink too much anyway.” Tony agreed, tone very serious.

The blond leaned down to capture a kiss at the foot of the first step. “You do.”

Anthony Stark was known for many things. His intellect, his superhero moonlighting, his giant ego. Patience was most definitely not one of these things.

He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him up to the next floor where there was a lovely, luxurious bathroom with a very big tub, currently filling with warm water and strawberry scented bubbles.

Clothes hit the floor, mouths met, heated touches brought gasped names to their lips.

Both men eagerly climbed into the tub with contented sighs as the water washed over them and wet skin slid together.

Tony grinned. “Okay, you got me here. I think you can turn off the taps now.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but reached for the faucet.

“It’s not like you needed much convincing, Idiot.” He twisted the top hard. Too hard, as it turned out, since it broke off in his hand. “Um…oops?”

Tony laughed at the confused look he was giving the chunk of metal. “Who were you just calling idiot?”

“Oh, hush.” Steve blushed.

“What did my poor taps ever do to you?” Tony lamented dramatically. “Oh, well. Jarvis, turn off the water, would you?”

The steady flow showed no signs of stopping.

“Uh, Jarvis?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he turned very slowly to stare at Tony in horror. “You said… you were fixing him…”

“I turned him off while he was calibrating.” The genius/idiot gaped at the tap without the first idea of what to do.

Somehow, when Bruce and Natasha came back to the Tower an hour later, they were supremely unfazed by Iron Man and Captain America running around two floors of flooded living space, yelling about plumbing and AIs without a stitch of clothing between them.


	16. Finish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved writing this one.

Steve could never finish a drawing of Tony.

He had started dozens, all incomplete.

In some of them, his hands are missing. His arms just taper off into the white of the paper. Into nothing.

Sometimes he’ll draw his face, but stop after the eyes. Staring out from the page. Smiling without a mouth.

A few don’t even include a head. Shoulders, arms, waist, hips. The arc reactor drawing focus from everything else.

It frustrated him to no end.

Tony knew he drew. He’d shown him sketches of the rest of the team, a couple in the park, the dog from that commercial that made them both laugh.

He wanted to show him a picture of him.

He wanted Tony to see how he saw him. Perfect in his flaws. Standing tall while weighted down. His own. Just his.

But he could never get it right.

Every time he sat down to it, something would go wrong. His nose wasn’t quite right, or his arms looked a bit odd, or drawing him in the Iron Man suit was just cheating, wasn’t it?

It was a quiet night. Well, as quiet as the Avengers could get at any rate. They were watching some British show Natasha had developed an obsession for.

Something about cheekbones and hedgehogs, apparently.

She was watching with narrowed eyes, hugging a pillow to her chest and occasionally growling. Thor, who had been called in on the last mission and had yet to go home, was riveted by the ‘devilry displayed by the fiendish criminal’. Clint was in the kitchen because a) it was his turn to provide food and b) he could actually cook. Bruce seemed to be enjoying the program as well, though he kept being distracted by a notepad in his hands, crammed full of calculations.

Steve had his sketchbook propped up in his lap and Tony beside him, ranting about how he would make a better detective than this guy. So far, having a frame of reference that wasn’t just his memory seemed to be working and he hadn’t messed it up yet.

It had to be perfect.

“Hey, is that me?” Tony’s voice was soft, surprised, and he was leaning over curiously to peer at the page.

Steve clutched it back and away from him on instinct. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh. Okay.” Only an idiot could miss the hurt clear on his face before his mask slammed back up over it and he smiled. “Sorry. I’m a nosy sonovabitch.”

“No, I…” Steve sighed. “Would you like to watch? Me draw, I mean. No one’s ever really… but if you want to…?”

“Yeah.” Tony’s smile became a bit more real and he snuggled into Steve’s side. “I’d like that.”

Steve picked up his pencil again and resumed his work, this time with dark eyes following the movements of his hand. Tracking the creation of each line, each shadow.

And he didn’t mind. He felt… content.

Hardly aware of what he’d just done, he placed the pencil aside gain, gazing at the picture in shock.

“I’m… I’m done.” I did it.

A calloused hand covered his own and lips brushed his jaw.

“Honey, you are… so freaking talented. This is amazing.” Tony grinned. “I look good. As always.”

He sounded snarky enough, but there wasn’t any bite to it. His fingers trailed delicately over the picture, taking in the soft smile and laughter-filled eyes. The goggles stuck up on his head, making his wild hair even more crazy than usual. Oil stains on his band t-shirt, the warm glow from the reactor illuminating a strong jawline. Love present in every curve and speck of graphite.

“It’s just you.” Steve told him quietly, happily as the feeling of accomplishment settled in his chest. “It’s how I see you.”

“A mad scientist?” Tony quirked an eyebrow.

“No. Bright.”


	17. Ploy

Tony gave the interviewer a dazzling smile, the same one he used to win over reporters and piss off politicians everywhere.

“I’m not really sure what you’re asking me here.”

The redhead returned the smile with a hint of venom and fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

The audience were holding their breath. The cameras were right up in the faces of both parties.

“Stark Industries released a statement prior to New York’s legalization of same-sex marriage putting their full support behind the movement.”

Tony nodded. “That is correct.”

“I want to know why.”

“Because we’re a company that believes in equality. Any of our employees can attest to that, I’m sure.”

Tony knew damn well what was going on. He’d known ever since he’d been invited on this damn talk-show. Pepper had told him they needed publicity that didn’t involve him blowing something up and he didn’t argue.

But he was here for his own reasons, not the company’s.

“That may be, Mr. Stark…”

“Please, call me Tony.”

“Tony. I just wanted to know if that ‘belief in equality’ stems from your own morality, or your own personal experiences.”

Wow, was this woman a vampire? Tony could have sworn he saw definite fang there. He and Bruce would look into it later.

“So, really, what you’re fishing for, with no amount of tact whatsoever, might I add, is whether or not I’m gay?”

She laughed lightly. Tony joined her. A few of the audience did too.

“Are you?” Her eyes were sparkling with malicious intent.

Well, he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her.

“I think my dating history has been pretty well documented over the years.” And the whole audience chuckled this time because who hadn’t read a story about the lovable playboy’s exploits sometime in the past decade?

“Then what is your response to the rumours circulating about yourself and Captain Steve Rogers? Captain America, to our viewers at home who don’t know.”

“There’s a rumour about that? I had no idea.” Tony smiled brightly, eyebrows raised. The interviewer opened her mouth to press further but he cut her off. “I’m flattered. Have you seen the guy? I think everyone’s a little gay for Captain America.” Oh, Steve was going to kill him for that one later.

“Are you?”

Everyone was on the edge of their seats again and Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Was it really such a big deal? To him, no. To Steve, it had been. It was only a week ago, after nearly two months of dating, he had told Tony that he was ready for people outside of their friends to know. He had wondered why Tony hadn’t just called a press conference there and then, but his boyfriend had experience with the press.

Too much, really.

They couldn’t just come out and say it. They would be hounded by reporters in the streets and the strain that would put on them… no. Just no.

They had to admit to it when asked, but not like they were ashamed. They had to say it like they didn’t see why it was anyone else’s business. Like they were happy and were going to stay that way, thank you very much.

A few phone calls to the right people and, oh, would you look at that? The internet thought they were dating already. The talk show invitation had only been a matter of time.

And now Tony looked straight into the camera, imagining Steve watching from home, and grinned.

“No, I’m not a ‘little gay’ for Steve.” A groan of disappointment. “I’m a little in love with him and just as bisexual as I’ve always been.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seems like a good time to mention these shorts are not in chronological order. Of course, a better time to mention that would have been at the beginning. Sorry.


	18. Toggle

“Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve.”

“Toooooooooooooooony.”

“Wh-why are my legs floating?”

“Because I’m carrying you.”

“Oh. Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“Why are you… you carrying me?”

“Because Thor challenged you to a drinking contest and you accepted.”

“… huh?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Oh! You can’t get drunk, can you, Steven?”

“No.” A pause. “Don’t call me Steven. It’s weird.”

“Okie-dokie. You’re snuggly, Steven.”

A sigh. “Thank you.”

“I like what you’re wearing, it’s… what is it?”

“A cardigan.”

“And what this?”

“A toggle.”

“Toggle?”

“Toggle.”

“That’s a funny word.”

“It is.”

“Hey, hey, Steven!”

“What?”

“Toggle.”

“Tony…”

“Toggle, toggle, toggle, togg-oof!”

“Go to sleep, honey.”

“You dropped me!”

“On your bed. Where you sleep. Now sleep.”

“But Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve…”

“Oh, back to Steve now, are we?”

“I don’ wanna sleep.”

“Well, what do you want to do then?”

“…”

“Oh, for the love of… No, Tony.”

“Aw.”

“If I get into bed too will you go to sleep?”

“Uh-huh. Will you keep the toggles on?”

“No.”

“Aw.”

“Alright, there. Now go to sleep.”

“Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve?”

“What now, Tony?”

“… love you.”

A smile. “I love you too, Idiot.”


	19. Steal

New York City is not known for having a low crime rate.

In fact, every home-grown New Yorker has at least one horror story. They saw a guy get mugged once, a gun went off in the apartment next door, their cell phone got stolen on the subway.

But surely, surely, not even the pettiest thief nor the most hardened criminal would be stupid enough to try and pickpocket Captain America.

Right?

Tony and Steve were on a date, something that they didn’t get to do anywhere near often enough.

Coffee in Central Park. A little clichéd, perhaps, but Tony liked the coffee and Steve liked the view so it worked.

Plus, Tony insisted every once in a while that they do something touristy and cute because Steve “missed out on 70 years worth of rom-coms and has a lot of cheesy moments to make up for”. Apparently.

They’d had a nice morning. It was sunny mid-June so there were people everywhere, no one paying enough attention to anyone else to recognize Iron Man and Captain America strolling hand-in-hand.

Well, apart from that golden retriever who seemed to decide Tony was his new best friend and practically glomped him. Sandy’s owner had been very apologetic. Tony’s boyfriend had been very amused.

“We should probably think about heading back soon.”

“Hmm, thought about it. Nope.”

Steve laughed. “We can’t stay in the park forever.”

“Then let’s go to lunch. That Italian place we went to for Clint’s birthday is just around the corner.”

“Tony, you know if we leave everyone alone in the Tower too long we’ll come back to a smoking crater.”

“Meh, I can afford it.”

The super soldier started laughing again until someone bumped into him abruptly.

“Oh, geez, sorry, you okay there?” Tony rolled his eyes because of course Steve would apologize to the person who walked into him.

The person who was now hurrying away without responding…

“Tony…” Steve patted his pocket with a frown. “I think he just took my wallet…”

There are times in life where you know exactly how a situation will pan out but can’t help but be entertained regardless.

For example, it was clear to Tony in the moment that Steve gave chase to the pickpocket that he would catch him, make him give back the wallet and insist on an apology. It was also obvious that the boy (who, as it turned out, was only around fifteen or sixteen) would comply and that his face would be priceless when it finally clicked in his head who he had just stolen from.

And yet, it was so fun to watch all the same.


	20. Prediction

When Tony and Steve finally got their asses in gear and realized they were head over heels for each other, the pool running their odds got tossed out the window to be replaced with several others.

Members of this pool included the other Avengers (Bruce’s accuracy was frankly terrifying), numerous SHIELD agents (most were convinced Fury had entered under an alias and was making a killing) and, of course, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy.

Bets ranged from ‘who would say ‘I love you’ first’ to ‘when Steve will lose his virginity’. The answers were colorful, varied and, more often than not, incorrect. But one thing that every single person agreed on, without a shadow of a doubt, was that the first person to screw up would be Tony.

Predictions suck.

Being a few days into a new romance was lovely. These are the times in a relationship when romantic gestures are met with blushes and coy looks instead of rolled eyes and, well, sex. When you get to be giggly and cute before reaching the point of nauseating those around you. When things are sometimes awkward but can be simply laughed off because, well, you don’t really know each other too well yet.

If something can disrupt these happy days, it must be huge.

“C’mon, Cap, if anyone could ever make a real attempt to get you drunk, it’s me, right?” Tony grinned, wide and goofy, and poured another drink.

Steve laughed lightly. “Others have tried, you know.”

“I’m sure they have. I’m also sure that they lacked my… tenacity and expertise.” He came back over from the bar and sat next to the smiling blond. Easier said than done considering he had settled himself on the floor by the windows. “Here. Drink it or I will.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” Steve agreed seriously and downed the liquid, promptly choking on the taste. “Oh my god, what is this? Lighter fluid?!”

Tony sniggered and half-shrugged. “Close enough. So, honey, how was your day?”

“Well, sweetheart, I mostly hung out in the gym with Clint seeing as how someone couldn’t be dragged away from… from building rocket boots for toasters or whatever it was you were doing.”

Tony guffawed. “Toaster rocket boots? Really?”

Steve blushed but was supremely unrepentant. “I honestly would not be surprised.”

“Fair point.” The shorter man was still chortling but let the issue slide. “And actually, I was working on these jettisoned grappling hooks for the armor. I got the idea from Clint’s multi-arrows - those things are awesome, by the way - but it’s a bit more complicated because I have to work around the tech that the suit already has…”

He continued rambling, getting further and further into technical aspects that made Steve’s head hurt but he made no move to stop him, just smiling softly at how animated he was. It reminded him vividly of another mad scientist he used to know.

And he had barely understood a word then, either.

“… so as long as I can get the propulsion ratio evened out it should work just fine. What do you think?”

“Whatever you say, Howard.”

It was an automatic response and the second he realized what he had just said, he clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening in horror.

Tony froze, gaping a little and something dark flashing in his eyes for the briefest of moments. But then it was gone, a blank smile plastered over his features before Steve had time to blink.

“T-Tony, I’m so so-“

“Slip of the tongue, Captain?” That empty grin was still in place, so much worse than any expression of anger could be. His tone was too friendly, too polite and it made a chill run down Steve’s spine. “Don’t worry about it. Easy mistake, I’m sure. You must get us confused all the time.”

“No, I jus-“

“Well.” Tony stood abruptly. “I left something running in the lab. Better go check on it. Wouldn’t want to blow us all up.”

He turned on his heel and all but ran from the room as Steve made a last desperate plea.

“Tony!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in chapter 21...


	21. Injustice

Steve looked crushed. The kind of crushed that people looked when their heart has been broken and they don’t know how to carry on.

Tony was alone. He had shut himself away from the team, responding only occasionally to Jarvis in his short moments of lucidity. He looked, through the glass walls of his workshop, like a dead man walking.

“What do you think happened?” Natasha voiced the question on everybody’s mind. She looked around the kitchen at her teammates. Clint, polishing arrows in a kind of robotic trance while his eyes darted between everybody else. Thor, eating Pop Tart after Pop Tart in a downright gloomy manner. Bruce, sipping morosely at his spicy-smelling tea.

This wasn’t good. The estrangement of their friends had them all on edge. If they got called out on a mission in this state, it would not end well.

“Think he cheated on him?” Clint suggested finally.

“Tony wouldn’t do that.” Bruce said immediately. “Not to Steve.”

“His record’s kind of against him there, Doc.”

“No.” Natasha shook her head. “I’m with Bruce. I don’t think he could.”

“Well, what then?” The archer huffed, tapping an arrowhead repeatedly off the counter moodily. “They haven’t spoken to each other in two days. Steve’s walking around like someone killed his puppy. I’m too scared to consider what kind of shape Tony might be in if we ever get him out of his lab. Something happened and it was not good.”

“These are dark times indeed. A warrior’s heart gone awry is no small thing.” Thor intoned lowly, draining his third coffee.

Bruce sighed and rubbed at his eyes under his glasses. “We have to get them to talk.”

“How? Steve’s acting like he’d be willing to but if Tony’s feeling guilty it could take forever to draw him out. You know what he’s like.”

“You think he feels guilty?” They all whirled around to see none other than Captain America standing in the doorway, all wide eyes in a pale face. “Why on Earth would he be feeling guilty?”

There was a quick shared glance around the room.

“Well…” Natasha spoke carefully, trying to mind where she stepped. “I can’t think of another reason to hide away unless he’s… trying to avoid you.”

Steve’s face crumpled and she bit back a wince. He half-walked, half-stumbled to the nearest chair and sat down heavily, putting his face in his hands.

“Good job, Rogers. Your first real relationship and you screw it up before it’s properly started. I am such an idiot.”

The kitchen’s other occupants exchanged another, slightly more taken aback look.

“Uh, Captain?” The blond looked up at Clint with tired eyes. “I, er… look, we don’t know what happened but you probably shouldn’t blame yourself. Really.”

“But it’s my fault! Where else would you like me to put the blame? I went and opened my stupid mouth and said the worst possible thing at the worst possible moment and now he hates me and, oh god, his face…” Steve cut off with a groan and face-planted the table, looking possibly the most undignified he had ever been.

Silence greeted his words for a few moments before being broken, predictably, by Thor.

“I am confused. You are saying that is your words that are responsible for this state of affairs?”

Steve nodded miserably without removing his forehead from the polished wood.

“What did you say?” Clint blurted out in bafflement. Natasha cursed at him in Russian and whacked the back of his head.

“No, it’s okay.” Steve sighed, finally looking up but not meeting anyone’s eye. “I know you guys have been worried.”

He stared at a point on the wall blankly and no one was in any rush to prompt him further. Curious as they were, it was perfectly clear that their fearless leader had reached his breaking point.

The seconds stretched on.

“… I called him Howard.”

Bruce choked on his tea. Clint’s mouth fell open. Natasha’s eyebrows rose to her hairline and she thumped Bruce on the back. Thor looked confused again.

“What is this ‘Howard’?”

“My father.”

For the second time, everyone in the kitchen turned to the doorway in surprise. Tony was standing there, dishevelled and pale, with dark shadows beneath his eyes and several empty coffee mugs in his hands.

Ignoring everyone, especially Steve who had sprung to his feet, he shuffled over to the counter-top, dumped his load of dirty dishes and plucked an apple from the fruitbowl.

“Tony…” Steve tried and was, yet again, cut off by the genius.

“Jarvis threatened to cut the power in the workshop if I didn’t eat something so…” He held up the apple to illustrate his completed mission and made to leave again.

“Tony.” It was Bruce this time, recovered from his earlier attack. “Stay. Please.”

It was enough to stop him but he didn’t turn around. “Why? To try and fix this…” His hand twitched in Steve’s direction almost unconsciously. “… or to further marvel over the fact I didn’t do anything wrong?”

He cocked his head. “Not lately, anyway.”

Everyone except Steve winced. Thor stood majestically, because every freaking thing the guy did was majestic, and spoke in a solemn voice.

“We have done you a great injustice, my friend. We should not have assumed.”

Tony shrugged, only turning back partially. “‘S fine.”

“‘Assume’…?” Steve was frowning and clearly putting two and two together. “You… you all thought that Tony…”

“Why wouldn’t they, Cap?” And their eyes met for the first time since ‘The Incident’ as they would later refer to it as. “I’m the screw up here, remember?”

“You’re not.” The note of pleading was almost too much to bear. Bruce took it upon himself to shepherd everyone who wasn’t a star-crossed superhero out of the room.

Tony sighed and sat down, resigned to the fact that this talk was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

Steve immediately sat down across from him, having to restrain himself from reaching across and taking his hand.

“Tell me what I need to do to make this okay.”

Dark, haunted eyes flitted to his face. “I honestly don’t know, Steve. I’ve got all this crap running through my head and I can’t… I just can’t..”

“Tell me.” Not a command. Soft. Gentle.

“… why did you kiss me back, Cap? When I finally snapped and just did it, why did you kiss me back?”

“Because I wanted to.” It was the honest answer, delivered without hesitation and Tony still looked unhappy.

“Because you wanted me or…” He broke off with a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. “I really remind you of him, don’t I?”

Steve blinked, still not getting the whole picture here. He nodded hesitantly, deciding honesty was the best policy. “Sometimes.”

Tony fidgeted and stood, pacing aimlessly as though he was trying to distract himself or get rid of the nervous energy building in the room.

“He… he was your friend. I get that. I do. I know… I know he wasn’t always… The point is, I don’t resent you for that.” He was still pacing and gesticulating wildly, his hands always finding their way back to his hair. “And I… I get that you’ve lost a lot of people. A lot of… of friends.”

Steve waited, watching.

“I guess I’m just worried because… because…” he sighed and fell back into his chair. “Just answer me honestly, okay?”

“Alright.” Steve had the strangest, most uncomfortable feeling. Like everything important to him in this world was dependent on how he handled whatever it was Tony wanted to say. Like one wrong word could bring everything he holds dear crashing down around him.

“Is it… is it me that you want or… or do you just want to - need to, whatever - hold on to… a reminder? Because… if it’s that, then I need to walk away. I can’t… I couldn’t handle a life of being a replacement, Steve.”

“Tony…” Unable to hold back and praying he was doing the right thing, Steve moved around the table and knelt beside the other man’s chair. “Look at me. Please?”

And he did because like hell Tony could ever deny Steve anything.

“I’ll admit, when we first met, I compared you to your father. How could I not? The man I knew was a great one and you were just so…”

“Not great?”

“Different. And I think we both know that wasn’t entirely unintentional.” Tony shifted uncomfortably and Steve gently squeezed his hands in his own. “You tried to distance yourself from him and I understand why now. But the further you let me in, the more things I noticed. Little quirks that, yes, reminded me of How- him. But, and I really need you to believe me here, all they did, all they still do, is show me how much of a better man you are than he ever was.”

Tony blinked in surprise and Steve smiled hesitantly, moving a hand to rest on his cheek.

“It’s you, Tony. Just you. Always you.”

To this day, the Avengers will firmly deny that they were watching the make-up kisses of their friends from around the doorframe.


	22. Specification

“Tony, what are you doing? And why are you doing it to my uniform?”

The genius looked up from his work only for a moment, gracing his partner with only a short glance before resuming… whatever it was he was doing.

Steve was not happy. He liked his uniform. He was very fond of his uniform. And now it was missing and there were scraps of blue leather littering the floor of Tony’s workshop.

“Tony Stark, you better answer or so help me I’ll…”

“Imahmpoovngrit.” It probably wasn’t a good sign that the super soldier could perfectly understand words spoken around the handle of a screwdriver without difficulty.

He really spent far too much time down here.

“You’re ‘improving it’. Right. Of course you are.” He crossed his arms and frowned, trying to not get angry. “Did it even occur to you to ask me first?”

Tony’s teeth relinquished their hold on the tool and he used it to tighten something while he answered. “I find acting on ideas serves me much better than waiting around for permission. People tend to think I’m insane for some reason.”

“I’m inclined to agree. There was nothing wrong with my uniform!” Steve said hotly.

“It’s made of leather.” Tony emphasized, giving the taller man a look. “And as hot as that is, and as tough as you are, that does not make it bulletproof. I’m bringing it up to spec, that’s all.”

His dark eyes were pained for brief a second. “I don’t want you getting hurt. Not when I could actually do something to protect you better.”

Steve’s anger mostly dissipated. Yes, a bullet had him during the last mission. Yes, it had hurt. And yes, it had thrown Tony into a panic of epic proportions. But it had also healed and he was fine. He couldn’t help but feel this was an over-reaction.

“I have a shield.”

“It can’t stop everything all of the time.” Tony sighed and finally stopped working. “Look, I knew you would fight me on this. That’s why I wanted to put it together first and give you the choice.”

“I don’t need any extra protection, Tony. I get along just fine. And I don’t see much of a choice in you shredding option number one.”

He glared pointedly at a scrap of material when Tony looked confused.

“Oh. Oh! No, that’s not… Is that why you’re…?” The billionaire started laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Steve protested.

“Yes it is.” Tony chuckled. “Here was me thinking I’d wounded your pride or whatever but no, you’re just protective of your wardrobe.”

Steve glowered at him and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s a new suit, dummy. Yours is over there.” He jerked his chin over to the other side of the room, face going oddly pink, and went back to clanking around with objects on his workbench.

The blond, highly suspicious of his behaviour, crossed the space to investigate, lights flicking on automatically courtesy of Jarvis.

His suit was there, unharmed, and in pride of place on a mannequin lined up beside all the old Iron Man skeletons.

“… oh.”

“Yes, oh.” Tony was behind him, leaning against a car engine and smirking. “I’m disappointed, Cap. You didn’t honestly think I’d just destroy it in the name of progress, did you?”

Steve’s face must have spoken volumes because Tony placed a hand over his reactor, feigning a mortal wound.

“Ouch. Really. It was designed by a very good friend of mine, you know.” His eyes twinkled and softened at the memory. It didn’t last long.

“And like I said…” That devilish grin was just his default, wasn’t it? “… it’s pretty damn hot.”


	23. Brightness

It had been difficult for a while at first. Sleeping in the same bed.

Not because of any awkwardness or second thoughts, no, it was just that Steve was used to sleeping in total darkness.

Real, uninterrupted dark.

He found it comforting. No distractions. Just a soothing constant that didn’t interrupt his dreams.

Too often in his time he had been woken by sudden lights and shouting. In fact, the fact that Jarvis roused him by calmly calling his name and explaining the situation when there was an emergency was a big part of how easily Steve had adapted to the AI.

He hadn’t really considered the side-effect of dating a man with a high-tech torch in his chest.

It kept him up for hours each night before he finally told Tony what was going on. The man had been immediately apologetic and, to Steve’s horror, embarrassed. Coincidentally, this was when he also figured out why he had yet to see his boyfriend shirtless.

After suggestions of covers for the reactor or eye-masks for Steve were discussed and dismissed, they eventually decided to go back to sleeping apart until they found a solution.

Others noticed and promptly panicked, spurred on, no doubt, by memories of ‘The Incident’ and its fallout. It had taken a lot of convincing before they believed that there really wasn’t an issue.

And then ‘Operation: Everything Got Fucked Up Enough Even Fury Was Worried’ happened.

Highlights included Natasha being held hostage by a crazed super-villain (not a smart move for him), Thor being knocked unconscious (by Mjolnir, somehow), Clint being poisoned (by a paralytic, which in itself was enough to sufficiently freak out everyone involved), Hulk turning back into Bruce way before an advisable point in the fight (that had at least meant the good doctor could keep Clint from suffocating) and a building collapsing on top of Steve and Tony.

Luckily, they had been on the basement floor and the room they dove into at the first ominous sounding rumble hadn’t caved in completely.

Unluckily, or perhaps just predictably, Tony had decided his suit was more resilient than his boyfriend and had tried to shield the Captain from over a ton of falling rubble.

He was struck on the head. A lot. It was hell, cradling him in his armour with only the dim blue glow for comfort in what Steve had honestly suspected would become their tomb.

No one had been able to reach them for over an hour with their resident demigod and green man-mountain out of commission. What the rescue team had found was a distraught Captain America screaming expletives because Tony’s arc reactor had just flickered out.

All the Avengers had been given a very hands-on crash course by a far too gleeful Tony and Jarvis on how to switch out a reactor. It was for this reason that Natasha, being the only one still standing and not needed for life-saving reasons elsewhere, had insisted on accompanying the rescuers carrying a nondescript case in her hand.

She had been in time to save him but he was still suffering severe injuries from the collapse. Steve barely had a scratch on him, if you could believe it, and refused to sleep until Tony woke up.

He stayed awake while his boyfriend was taken away from him by medics. He stayed awake while he underwent surgery after surgery to properly realign broken bones and repair damage. He stayed awake in an uncomfortable chair in a dimly-lit room, drawn face aglow with blue light.

After that, he moved far more permanently into Tony’s room, finding the pitch black of his own just too dark, too lonely. Now, he fell asleep every night they were together, staring into that circle of light. The single spot of brightness that existed for him in the shadows before dawn.

The only thing that was powering his heart.


	24. Sponsor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-slash fluff because the timeline needs fleshing out. Guest stars Pepper Potts.

“Steve, will you sponsor me?” Pepper held out a piece of paper to him with a bright smile. Steve blinked.

“Um, pardon?”

“I’m doing a charity fun run in Central Park this Saturday.”

“Yeah, you and half my office staff.” Tony sidled into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee machine. “I think I’ve signed half of my fortune away on those things in the past week.”

“I’ve put you down for a hundred.” Pepper smiled sweetly.

“Excellent.”

He raised his mug to her and took a swig. Steve smiled. He was impressed with how well they functioned around each other after the break up. If you could call it that.

Tony preferred to call it ‘a mutual realization of different goals’.

From what Steve understood, Pepper had flat out told Tony that she couldn’t handle being his last phone-call anymore and he had let her go.

“I’m… still not getting it. You said charity?” The blond looked appropriately confused and Tony sniggered a little into his coffee.

“Oh, I don’t suppose you would have heard of one before. Well, it’s…”

Tony cut Pepper off before she could get into it. “She runs, you promise to give her money if she finishes and it all goes to charity. So…” He plucked the sheet from Pepper and put it down in front of Steve, leaning in close enough that he could smell his aftershave. “Say you pledge ten bucks for every kilometre, it’s a 4k so by the time she was finished, you’d owe her forty and she donates it to charity. All very decent and fun. Right up your street, Cap.”

He squeezed his shoulder and went to refill his mug. Pepper kind of half-glared at him while Steve stared just a little.

Tony was never this nice about his confusion. He usually rolled his eyes and cracked a joke before deigning to explain so he wasn't asked anymore.

Trying to ignore that his shoulder was still tingling, Steve quickly signed his name in a free space.

“Here you go, Miss Potts. It sounds really great. Is twenty enough?”

“It’s plenty, thank you Captain.” She smiled, reminded Tony rather fiercely of a board meeting he had to attend, and took her leave.

Steve eyed Tony, who was still leaning against the counter, sipping his drink.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know what.” And he did, if the faint blush covering his cheeks was anything to go by. He shrugged.

“Anytime.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, I…” Tony sighed and rubbed the back of his head in that way he often did when embarrassed. “Look, I know it bugs you. Having to ask all the time. I could see it on your face there and… other times. So, you can just ask me, if you want. I know I can be a bit of a jerk about it sometimes but, hey, I’m a jerk to everybody.”

“Not to Pepper.”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I’ve been a jerk to her plenty.”

Steve studied him for a moment. “So I can call you? Anytime? Even if it’s something stupid like I can’t get the channel I want on the television?”

“Yeah. I mean, you don’t have to every single time…” He shuffled his feet and Steve couldn’t help but find it endearing. “If it’s easier to ask Bruce or Natasha or whatever then knock yourself out. I just… Don’t feel like you can’t ask me, okay?”

“Okay.” The soldier nodded, smiling. “Sure.”

“Alright.”

The silence was slightly awkward and stretched on for several minutes. Steve’s shoulder had stopped tingling and he oddly missed the feeling a little.

“… Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Board meeting.”

“Crap!”


	25. Biological

More and more often, Steve found himself sitting in Tony’s workshop.

Reading, drawing, watching, resting in the clatter and clang and buzz of the room and the soft music Tony wouldn’t turn down for anyone else.

It was always bright, always busy and Tony was always there. Always tinkering. Always talking. Never still for a moment.

When he had trouble sleeping because of nightmares of battles old and new and ice closing in around him so cold, he’d go down there and he would always have company.

They didn’t talk about it. Why they were there, why they were drawn to each other like moths to a flame.

They just were and neither was willing to take the leap to suggest something more. To address what was always bubbling beneath the surface and made itself known in each touch, each smile, each unguarded thought.

They took comfort in nothing more.

So when he tread the familiar path and found the shop almost dark, with buffered sound and quiet whirrs and Tony still in his chair, back to the door, he didn’t have to wonder if something was wrong. The chill down his spine answered for him.

“Tony?”

“I’m here, Cap.” But his voice was distant and when Steve moved closer he sucked in a breath at the sight.

At the reactor in his hand and the empty hole in his chest.

“Just… recharging my batteries.” He attempted a grin, his usual cocky smirk, but it came off as a pained grimace and he avoided eye contact, fiddling with the base of the light.

“… does it hurt?”

“Not so much anymore. Used to. A lot.”

Steve didn’t know what to make of that. Tony didn’t admit weakness. He wasn’t melancholy, not without something to help him along. But there was no bottle, no well-known scent of scotch.

Though, he supposed, holding your life literally in your hands was enough to make anyone reflective.

“How long can you keep it out?” He got no answer. He didn’t expect one, his eyes flitting between the reactor and Tony’s face with no idea of what to do, if this situation was something he could handle. “Tony?”

“I think about it sometimes, you know. What would happen if I didn’t put it back in.” His eyes would have been dim if not for the blue light reflected in them like the spark of life. “Would people notice, you think? Well, of course they would notice. I’m Tony Stark. I’m Iron Man. That’s who I am. It’s… it’s all I am. But would anything change? Once the smoke from the funeral cleared… who would care?”

Steve stood silent, afraid to move, afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing. It was like talking to a man on the ledge. One wrong word and that life could be gone.

He had to suppress the urge to grab the reactor and put it where it should be. Where it should always be, lighting up Tony’s chest, because if it wasn’t… it didn’t bear thinking about.

But even as he watched, the billionaire was wiring it back into the metal cavity, slotting it into place with a soft click of finality and it felt as though his very soul was slumping in relief.

Gently, oh so gently, like he was handling fragile glass because there could be no going back after this, he laid his hand over Tony’s. Over his hand, over the light, over his heart.

“I’d care. I’d cry. I would miss you if you weren’t here.”

The air grew quiet. Even the computers and light and so many things that made so many noises that only Tony could understand seemed to fall silent under the weight of the moment.

Gone in the second sky blue eyes met chocolate brown.

And it was so silly.

It was so silly and stupid that they had danced these steps for months. Failed by their nerve, their courage, their hearts. By each other.

And it was so stupid that Steve could hardly breathe because now he was the one on that ledge and this was his chance to jump.

And Tony took it from him when he kissed him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First kiss. I'll just be over here squeeing.


	26. Lobby

Tony could not believe his eyes.

It was ridiculous, this thing he was witnessing. Totally ridiculous.

Because what he was seeing was Steve Rogers (a.k.a. Captain America a.k.a. his childhood hero a.k.a. the man who had ridden off into the sunset on a motorbike less than a week ago) with a broom, sweeping up rubble and dust in the lobby of Stark Tower.

What.  
The Tower hadn’t exactly been, well, habitable for the past few days. Just a bit of broken glass and a few new skylights, in Tony’s opinion, but Pepper had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to recover from the battle in a building that was structurally unsound.

He had pouted. A lot.

He was rather fond of his new shiny tower.

It wasn’t all bad, though. He’d managed to convince Bruce to stay with him in Malibu until he got back on his feet and their sciencey-bromance was in full bloom. Pepper had hovered a lot, justifiably freaked out by the whole nuclear-warhead-trans-dimensional-portal thing and Rhodey had stopped by to call him an idiot.

He had gotten some work done though, mostly concerning changes he wanted to make to the Tower. Which brought him back to his current problem.

“So, Captain, did you actually make it out of New York or was it just too hard to be parted from me?”

Steve started and whirled around, broom still in hand, and almost knocked Tony’s feet out from under him. Superhuman strength. Gotta love it.

“Stark! I mean, Tony. I mean… sorry, are you okay?”

“I’ll live.” Possibly in a wheelchair because fuck that hurt. “But, really Cap, what are you doing here? You don’t work for me now, do you? Because that’s just weird. And if you’re that desperate for a job I’m sure I can find you something a step up from the cleaning crew. Are you wearing the same clothes as the last time I saw you, by the way? They look the same. Tacky, Rogers, just plain tacky.”

Steve blinked. “Uh… okay… well, no, I don’t work for you, this is a different shirt and we saved the world together, I think you can call me Steve.”

Tony’s lips quirked upward. “Alright, but you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here, Steve.”

“I’m helping.”

“I can see that.” He was faintly amused. “I’m kind of more concerned with the ‘why’.”

Steve sighed and finally abandoned his task, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck in a manner Tony would have called bashful on anyone else.

“Well… I was going to travel a bit, try and catch up, you know? But everything was too different from what I remember and anywhere I went there was always a television set or newspaper talking about the battle and the clean-up effort and I sort of felt guilty, I guess, I mean half the city’s trashed, so I came back. Barely got further than Philadelphia.”

His words came out in a semi-rehearsed kind of rush, like he’d been waiting for someone to ask the question and wasn’t overly keen to give his answer.

Tony cocked his head.

“You.. felt guilty… about the damage from the fight so… so you’re helping clear out a building privately owned by a billionaire? This billionaire?” He nodded. “Yup. Makes perfect sense.”

Steve huffed out a reluctant laugh. “Well… yeah. I guess the mess isn’t the only thing I’m guilty over. It’s kinda my way of saying sorry.”

Now Tony was just confused. “Sorry? For what?”

“For what I said. Before…” He waved a hand to encompass the remaining chaos around them. “I was wrong.”

Words played back in Tony’s head and he shifted uncomfortably.

Big man in a suit of armour… Take that away and what are you?… And you’re all about style, aren’t you?… I know guys with none of that worth ten of you… The only thing you really fight for is yourself… You better stop pretending to be a hero…

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “That’s very, er, decent of you, Spangles, but no apology needed. Really. No-go negotiation area right there.”

Steve frowned. “I think there is. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”

“I pretty much deserved most of them, I mean let’s be honest…”

“But you are a hero. And now everyone knows it.”

There was a moment of silence between the two men, both unsure if the prickly feeling under their skin was from unease and embarrassment or the onset of anger at the stubbornness of the other.

Tony was, of course, the first to break it.

“So, where are you staying Ca… Steve?”

The soldier almost protested the change in topic but something in the darker man’s eyes told him to let it go. For now.

Putting his conscience at ease was not worth undoing whatever progress they had made.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. got me an apartment…”

“Ew. No. Stop right there. Let me guess. Drab, empty, reminiscent of a jail cell?”

And Steve found himself laughing again. It took a little getting used to but Stark, it seemed, did have a good sense of humour.

“Something like that.”

“Well, fall in line. I’m on my way up to see about Hulk-proofing a floor anyway. Don’t see why you can’t have a room for the not-so-super-secret sleepovers. Of which there will be many, I assure you.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose like that…” He was silenced by Tony waving a hand and walking towards the elevators.

“No point in arguing, Cap. I’m a stubborn son of a bitch.”

Steve fought down an amused grin. Son of a Stark appeared a little more likely.


	27. Limit

“Um… Hi?”

When he thought about it, Steve supposed it had always been inevitable he would have to see his boyfriend behind bars at some point. He even had the reaction down pat.

Arms crossed. Frown in place. Eyes narrowed. General aura of disappointment.

Of course, he’d always imagined it might be over something a little more impressive than a DUI.

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me, Anthony.” Tony winced. Anthony. Ouch. “What were you thinking?! Getting behind the wheel when you can hardly see straight?! Are you insane or just plain stupid?!”

“Wh-why are you so mad?” Tony slurred. “S’not like it’s the first time I… I drove drunk…”

“Tony.” Steve leaned against the holding cell door. He had paid the bail already. Of course he had. The officers at the small station were just holding off on opening the doors. Happy to do a favour for Captain America, because it wasn’t the points on his boyfriend’s license he was worried about.

“I just wanna go home, Steve.”

“Tell me what happened.”

 

“Nothing happened.”

 

“Stop lying! This is the first time you’ve been this drunk since… since… Heck, I can’t remember the last time you were this drunk. You always have a reason for being this out of it. Always. So talk.”

 

Tony twisted his hands in his lap, purposefully avoiding Steve’s eye.

 

“I wasn’t that far over the limit, really. The cop was probably just bored and decided to pick me up for the hell of it. Nearly had a heart attack when it clicked for him where he’d seen me before, priceless look on his face…”

 

“You were going 120. Look at me please?”

 

“Well, yes there is that.” Tony sighed and finally looked up at his partner, clearly aware of his guilt and how much trouble he was in. “… I am sorry.”

 

“I know.” Steve crouched down, rocking back on his haunches so they could be face-to-face. “Tell me why you were out drinking.”

 

“… I got a call today, or yesterday, I guess.” He started digging his fingers into the back of his hair, tangling and scratching in that nervous manner he sometimes adopted. “Justin Hammer’s dead.”

 

Steve blinked. “The… man who helped Vanko?”

 

Tony nodded.

 

“He, uh, the stupid fuck tried to escape jail. Got caught in his own blast.”

 

“And you’re… upset?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Then I’m confused.” And he looked it, furrowed brow and an adorable pout that made Tony smile, just a little.

 

“It could have been me. So easily, it could have been me.”

 

Steve huffed out a breath and folded his legs under him, getting the feeling this could take a while. “You know, despite what I might say sometimes, I don’t actually think that you would blow yourself up. Even setting yourself on fire is a hard task with Dummy around.”

 

“I hate that guy. Hated. Always have. He was so smarmy and shallow and built nothing but crap. I always… I always said I didn’t like him because he wasn’t good enough to compete. Truth is, I didn’t like him because he was exactly like me.”

 

The blond on the floor opened his mouth to protest and was cut off.

 

“Or at least who I used to be. Smarmy and shallow and only as good as the last thing I made.”

 

“But that’s not you. Not anymore and, actually, I don’t think it ever was. You have a heart, Tony, and you’ve always used it, even if you didn’t acknowledge it at the time.”

 

Tony looked at him, wanting so badly to just accept the words.

 

“How easy would it have been, do you think? For me to become the bad guy? For it to have been me, not Hammer, who went off the deep end? Why wasn’t I the villain of the story?”

 

“Not easy at all.” Steve hated these moments, when he could see so clearly how low an opinion of himself Tony had. He didn’t know if it stemmed from his childhood or the media or something else all together but, whatever it was, he wanted to beat the crap out of it. “You always have a choice. There’s always a right or wrong thing to do. The decision to put yourself second. To fight for the greater good. And I believe in you.”

 

He smiled, even wider at the slight awe on Tony’s face, and stood up, fishing the cell key out of his pocket.

 

“Come on, hero, let’s get you home.”

 

Tony glared at him. “You had that key the entire time?”

 

“Yup.” Steve replied cheerily, opening the door and pulling Tony up for a kiss. “Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For letting me in.”

 

“You wouldn’t have let me out otherwise.” Tony mumbled into his shoulder, arms around his waist. “And besides, the whole prison scenario is only fun if you’re in the cell with me.”


	28. Cubic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration from this fanart: http://tresmaxwell.deviantart.com/art/Stark-Whump-312747170

523,467 cubic feet. That was the full size of the Avenger’s mansion. 15 bedrooms, each with an en-suite, as well as 5 bathrooms they shared. An observatory in the attic, a hi-tech gym on the second floor and several laboratories and workshops in the basement levels.

Levels. Plural.

And currently this massive living space of usually tumultuous activity was tonight occupied by only one man.

Or so he thought.

Tony was in his element. He whirled around his workstation, music playing full-blast and his armour all but dismantled, falling prey to his blowtorch and the mad ideas spiralling through his mind.

The team were separated. They had been called in by the X-Men to help deal with a Magneto situation in California. For obvious reasons, Iron Man had been excluded. Thor too, since his hammer might be a victim to the old guy’s wrath. Tony had tried to argue that Steve shouldn’t go either for the same reason but apparently Fury wanted him on the ground, giving orders.

Freaking eye-patch man.

Thor had jumped on the chance to visit Jane. Between Asgardian business and Avengers missions, the big guy didn’t get much chance to see his beau so Tony had waved him off with a cheery grin. He deserved it.

And so for the first time in a long time, he was home alone.

Well, if you didn’t include JARVIS. Or his bots. Or the security team S.H.E.I.L.D. had insisted on.

Funnily enough, people rarely did.

So he was in his own little world, and enjoying it thoroughly. Until his music cut out.

“JARVIS?”

No answer. That may be possibly a little not good.

Tony tried to call up his AI’s coding to no avail. Same story with the security footage and now none of the guards were answering.

“Well, crap.”

523,467 cubic feet of house and now he was definitely not alone.

One look at his suit told him there was absolutely no chance of using it right now and the suitcase suit was in a safe upstairs.

Fuck this. Tony Stark was not about to be taken down in his own home.

Hopefully.

Dammit, he was totally about to be taken down in his own home.

Alright, Stark, think. Put that famous brain to some good use. Prioritize.

Weapons.

He grabbed his blowtorch once more, shoving his goggles back down over his eyes and arming his other hand with a wrench. This was really not going to help the mad scientist reputation he was getting around the Tower.

Suit.

Useless to him at the moment it may be, but that didn’t mean he could let someone else get their hands on it. Actually, looking around his workshop, there was a lot of things in here that could cause massive amounts of damage in the wrong hands.

Hell, even his coffee mug had his DNA on it and that could lead to disturbing scenarios involving clones and evil twins and having to shoot himself in the face.

Alright, Stark, you’re just freaking out now.

Anyway. Workshop. Lockdown. Good idea.

He scrambled across the floor, bare feet sliding on tile, and flicked open a lightswitch cover beside the door that hosted a cliché big red button.

He slammed the palm of his hand into it and dove out the door.

Thick sheets of titanium alloy gradually lowered themselves from the ceiling on all sides of the room, turning it into a big metal shoebox with lots of cool things - and no Tony - inside.

It was a ‘worst case scenario’ fail-safe he’d put together after Obadiah and, well, all that jazz. Best not to dwell on it too long.

It was outside of JARVIS’s control, impenetrable by anyone who wasn’t him or didn’t have access to nuclear explosives, and the instructions to open it up again existed only in Tony’s head and in a letter addressed to Steve that sat tucked inside his will in a lawyer’s office in California.

Like hell his inventions were ever going to fall into the wrong hands again.

Tony straightened up and planned a course of action. Or, what he liked to call a plan of action at any rate.

Find the bad guys, hurt the bad guys and then get the fuck out of Dodge.

523,467 cubic feet. Time to get looking.

As it turned out, actually finding said villainous entities wasn’t all that complicated. They weren’t exactly being subtle.

A group of about fifteen, clad in black and looking like rejects from a Rambo movie, were gathered in the front hall. Several looked to be Eastern European, but there was a healthy mix of Asian and Caucasian looking men too so Tony’s money was on mercenaries rather than a terrorist cell.

He was watching them, crouched in a darkened corridor, and trying to decide whether it would be to his best advantage to try and attack these men now or to pick off any individuals he found wandering the mansion until the group were drawn away from the door. He didn’t honestly rate his chances of success either way but he’d much rather go down fighting like a badass than like a middle-aged man caught up in a home invasion.

He was just contemplating announcing his presence by launching into a stirring rendition of ‘Eye of the Tiger’ when Tony felt a gun barrel being pressed to the back of his neck.

“Mr. Stark.” South African accent. Interesting. “Would you be so kind as to stand up and walk into the light?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Tony span quickly, lashing out with his left leg and using his hands to balance his weight, allowing him to knock the unsuspecting man’s feet from under him and spring upward.

His assailant, smaller than Tony had thought, pulled the trigger as he went down and Tony reared back with a shout of pain as a bullet nicked his shoulder. He leapt on the man and delivered a blow to the temple with his wrench.

He went out like a light.

The altercation drew the attention of the other men and Tony turned back to find five armed man mountains glaring at him. He fired up his blowtorch.

What followed was neither coordinated nor pretty.

Outside of his suit, Tony was a scrapper. It was often the only way to get the upper hand while sparring against superhumans and gods and assassins. He fought dirty and hard and in any way that might keep him from harm.

He ran at the men and lashed out with the flame from his torch, catching the midriff of the one closest to him and causing him to shriek in agony as his flesh burned. Large hands grabbed at his wrist and wrestled his weapon away, so he sank his teeth into the arms attached.

After he was dropped, more attackers converged on him and he countered with a sloppy headbutt/tackle that sent him to the ground with two others. They grappled, a fist smashing into his right eye and a knife suddenly appearing to slice across his ribcage.

Tony growled and swore and scratched, kicked and punched at every inch of person-who-wasn’t-him he could reach. Voices were shouting around him but he paid them no heed.

The last thing he knew was a cloth, clamped around his mouth and nose from behind, and then just darkness and a fleeting memory of sky blue eyes.

Waking up was deeply confusing for him on an emotional level. On one hand, yay, waking up was good. The pain was slightly less good but at least it meant he was alive, right?

Conversely, waking up tied to a chair in quite an inventively awkward position with someone other than his boyfriend looming over him was not good in any sense of the word. Nor was the fact his kitchen (and really, they chose the kitchen out of anywhere else? He’d never hear the end of it from Clint if he got blood everywhere) was now occupied by grubby, unpleasant looking chaps who were armed to the teeth.

523,467 cubic feet and not a friendly face in sight.

Ah, well. At least he wasn’t gagged. That was nice.

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Stark.” The speaker was a tall man who was inspecting one of the kitchen knives. His accent and appearance made it clear he was from the Middle East. Tony tried not to groan when he noticed the Ten Rings identifying tattoo on his forearm.

“Let me guess, you’re the big wig around here? Let me tell you, I think some of your boys need a good talking to. Their hospitality skills are just shocking…”

There was a blow to the side of his head that made his vision swim a little. Apparently there were people behind him as well. Lovely.

“Did I touch a nerve?”

“We want your suit, Mr. Stark. We have found your laboratory. I would very much like you to open it.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen.”

So far, the stranger hadn’t looked up from the blade, eyes glinting as the metal caught the light.

“Why did you try to escape? Why not hide in your fortress?”

“Because despite public opinion, I’m not an idiot. Or suicidal.” That got him to look up. He eyed Tony with a look the latter man recognized with no little trepidation. Cold. Calculating. Ruthless. Merciless.

“Explain.”

“It’s an airtight box that can’t open from the inside. Like I said. Suicide.”

“Some would say the same about your poor attempt to get away.”

“I wasn’t trying to run.”

“No?” And now he sounded amused, moving closer. “Enlighten me.”

“Those were SHIELD agents guarding the house. I don’t know what your experience is with that particular organization but, usually, when they say they’re going to guard something, it takes the power of a god to push them aside. If you got in here, I wasn’t going to get out on my own with a wrench.”

“Then why the performance?”

“I figured, if you were going to kill me, I might as well piss you off first.”

The man laughed and, wow, if that wasn’t extremely creepy. Tony decided he was going to call him Baldy. Seriously, what was it with bad guys and their lack of hair? Say what you like about Loki, but at least the guy had a decent ‘do.

The laughter died, echoing into an eerie silence.

“Open the room, Mr. Stark.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to. Don’t know the passcodes off the top of my head. They’re in a safety deposit box in Texas. I’ll give you the address and a ten-minute headstart.”

Baldy nodded to the people Tony couldn’t see and suddenly hits were landing everywhere, raining down on him in a furious barrage that made it impossible for him to even catch his breath.

It hurt. A lot. His injuries from earlier made themselves known with each strike, fire shooting through his shoulder and agony emanating from the ribs on his right. Broken, probably.

Eventually an order was called out and the onslaught stopped. Tony coughed and raised his head, panting harshly. Baldy was in front of him again, examining the blowtorch Tony had used earlier.

Oh, that wasn’t good.

“Open the room, Mr. Stark.”

“Go to hell.”

He nodded like he had been expecting that answer and turned his attention back to the object in his hands.

“An interesting device, Mr. Stark. I assume you built it yourself. One of my best men is now out of action because of it. And you. Perhaps a little payback is in order.”

Tony snorted, determination alone keeping the fear from his face and voice as he spoke. “These aren’t your men.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You put on a good show and it’s obvious that they respect you, but it’s more out of fear than trust. Something that tells me they haven’t known you very long but they are acquainted with what that tattoo on your arm means.”

Baldy’s eyes darted down to said marking and back to Tony’s face. He was smiling slightly. Tony kept talking.

“They’re hired guns and you’re the only ‘true believer’ in this room so let’s not insult each other and just call this what it is.”

“And what is that?”

“A sadistic son of a bitch throwing a temper tantrum because he’s fallen at the last hurdle and isn’t high enough up the food chain to do anything about it.”

Baldy chuckled darkly under Tony’s glare.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He tipped back the chair with one hand and bent so he could reach the undersoles of his captive’s exposed feet. The torch flared again.

“Sir!”

A new face entered the room, looking panicked beyond all reason. For some reason this made Tony feel indescribably gleeful.

“What?!” Baldy snapped, clearly not used to people interrupting him.

“They’re coming. Fast.”

A long string of Arabic curses left Baldy’s mouth. He let go of the chair and it rocked unsteadily before settling under Tony properly.

Clearly, there had been some kind of command to pack up and move out in there somewhere because the room was rapidly emptying.

“Do we kill him?” A gruff voice spoke behind Tony. Baldy sighed.

“No. My people may want him again. Secure him and go.”

A gag was tied tightly around Tony’s head, muffling his protests. Baldy grabbed a handful of his dark hair and forced his head back to stare into those unforgiving eyes.

“This isn’t over, Mr. Stark.” And then he was gone. They all were.

523,467 cubic feet of house and, once again, Tony was alone.

Maybe he should take a nap. Hell, he was going to pass out anyway.

Darkness claimed him for the second time that night.

“Tony?”

Hands, exceedingly gentle, were holding his face. Tony groaned. He was sleeping. Go away.

“Honey, please.”

That voice. Steve’s. Had to be. No one else called him ‘honey’. Not even Pepper. It had always been Tony or Mr. Stark. But why was Steve trying to wake him up? He always complained the genius didn’t get enough sleep.

Lips on his.

“Open your eyes for me.”

He did.

Steve’s face filled his somewhat blurry vision. Steve’s worried-bordering-on-scared-but-still-somehow-gorgeous face.

“St-ee… mmph…” He couldn’t speak. There was something in his mouth. Oh, right. The gag.

He remembered then. What had happened. He closed his eyes again, leaning into Steve’s shoulder with a moan.

“Shh, baby.” He was keeping his voice down, as though he didn’t want to spook his injured boyfriend. He was talking again, to someone else.

“Can’t you go faster?”

“Trying.” Clint was behind Tony, hands working at the gag’s knot. “It’s too tight to cut. I’d probably slice his scalp too. Just give me a minute to untangle it.”

Tony jerked a little and his eyes flew open. Blood was rushing back to his legs.

“There.” Natasha’s voice. He didn’t turn, conscious of Clint still working away, but he smelled her perfume and felt her hand on his knee. “I’m going to do your hands, okay?”

The two agents hovered around him, movements careful and subdued. Assessing damage. And Steve was there the whole time, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear. Apologies for leaving. Promises for revenge.

He was free in minutes.

Tony wrapped his numb arms around Steve and squeezed as best he could.

“I’m fine.” He assured him. “Really.” He added to Clint and Natasha, who were standing off to the side with clenched jaws and tight eyes.

He could see Bruce in the doorway too, green fading from his eyes, having obviously stepped outside to avoid an ‘episode’.

523,467 cubic feet suddenly felt like home again.


	29. So

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is PG-13 (cautionary).

“So.” Steve smiled, gazing at Tony in the dim light like he held the universe in his eyes.

“So…?” Tony’s answering smile was more of a tricked-out grin, a beaming expression of joy that took over his entire face, making him glow.

“So that just happened.”

“Yes. Yes it did.”

This had been a long time coming.

Not that Tony was complaining. Well, maybe a little bit. But he had been happy to wait, do the relationship thing in the right order for once.

Steve was special. He didn’t want to screw it up too soon, he wanted it to last. So he’d never pushed, never pressured, never even broached the subject seriously for fear of breaking the spell they seemed to be under. Shattering this happiness they had achieved.

He loved Steve. So much that it scared him. And the number of people he’d slept with, who he’d been truly in love with at the time, could be counted up on one hand. And each of them, without fail, had broken his heart.

But that pain was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to how he would feel if he ruined this. If he took away something that special and hurt him. He couldn’t let himself do that.

So he left it to Steve. Achingly innocent Steve who still blushed when they kissed in public and who felt the constant urge to ask if what he was doing was ‘okay’.

Steve who had, months and months into their relationship, looked at him in that way and taken his hand and led him to their bedroom.

Steve, who had looked so unsure at first, questioning, shy.

Until Tony kissed him. And held him. And unbuttoned his shirt with calloused and gentle fingers, and with whispers of “We don’t have to do this.”

But no, Steve wanted to, and showed him that in the way he tugged at his clothes and sucked at his lip and murmured, pleaded against the naked expanse of his neck, his throat, his chest.

They were suddenly just skin-on-skin. Heat and touch all at once with nothing between them but each other.

The bed ended up beneath them, catching the back of Steve legs so he fell, holding Tony to him, strong arms clutching at his back and Tony’s legs, wrapped so tightly around Steve’s waist that they felt as one, a single entity never to be parted.

“Show me how.” A request or a demand, it didn’t matter in the dark. Except it wasn’t dark, could never be dark with them together. All that mattered were guiding hands and muffled gasps.

Searing hot touches and then they were connected.

Their hips rocked together and their breaths came in pants. Tight, oh, so tight and warmth like neither had ever felt before.

It was over with soft cries and joined lips. And then sighs and smiles and blue and brown eyes.

Parting with a dull ache and sweet words. Surrendering to cool sheets.

“So.”

“So…?”

“So that just happened.”

“Yes. Yes it did.”


	30. Ensure

Vacation. Such a wonderful word. And Steve really did like Malibu.

It was warm and sunny and bright. Tony seemed more at home here, sometimes. Away from the hustle and bustle and grime of New York City. In his own space.

And as much as the rest of the team felt like Steve's family, spending time apart from them was oddly liberating. And good for his blood pressure.

Just him, Tony, and an entire weekend of sunshine and each other.

Or, at least, that’s what he’d had planned until his other half said he had to go out on business.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Spangles. I won’t be too long. We can have a late lunch, okay?”

Steve frowned. “Pepper said you wouldn’t be needed this weekend. Why do you have to go?”

“It’s, uh, it’s not for the company. It’s personal.”

Okay, now he was worried. “Tony, when you describe something as ‘personal’ it usually results in explosions and Fury yelling at me. I’m going to need more detail than that.”

“I have a meeting with my lawyer.”

“Are you being sued?”

“Nope.”

“Investigated?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Restraining order?”

“No new ones, no.”

“… paternity suit?”

“You have no faith in me whatsoever.”

“Well, what then?”

Tony sighed. He’d really hoped he would be able to avoid this conversation.

“I need to update my will.”

An uncomfortable sort of silence fell over them. Steve wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Tony shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot before clearing his throat.

“So… Yeah. I’m just going to… get going.”

“Wait! I’ll uh, I’ll come with you.” Steve cast around for his shoes, clambering to his feet

Tony sighed but waited as told, thoroughly resigned to the fact he would lose any argument they had about this.

“You don’t have to.”

“Don’t you need, like a witness or something? To sign the papers?” He smoothed out his hair into something vaguely presentable and started for the door. Tony followed behind, rolling his eyes.

“I was going to just get Happy to do it. He did last time.”

Steve held the door open. “Uh-huh, and how often do you change your will?”

“Every so often. When something has to change.”

“And what’s changing this time?” Tony paused and Steve’s brain caught up with his mouth. “No. No, forget I said that. That’s… that’s far too private. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Tony shrugged and smiled, getting in the car. “I was going to talk to you about it anyway. I’m writing you in.”

Happy started driving, apparently aware of the day’s plans already. Steve stared blankly at his partner.

“What? Why? I don’t need anything.”

“Maybe not now.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, if I die, I want to make sure you’re taken care of. I mean, I doubt Pepper would throw you and the team out on the street but I’d rather know for sure that you’d have money to… to do whatever you want with, really.”

“Tony, I don’t care about your money!”

“I know, Cap. I do. I just want to make sure you’ll be okay if I go first. And let’s face it, that’s pretty damn likely.” Tony grinned. “And it’s not just you. I’m putting in something for everyone. Clint’ll just steal my stuff anyway if I don’t.”

Steve scowled. Tony’s tone might have been light but all this echoed too strongly of when the team first came together. When Tony worked tirelessly to get the Tower up to standard, modifying the entire building with things they’d enjoy and need.

It didn’t take them long to figure out that he’d been under the impression it was the only reason they’d stay.

“Alright, but on one condition.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “Oh, and what’s that?”

“I get to draw up one too. There’s seventy years worth of Army pension lying in a bank somewhere. I’ll leave it to you. And some charities.”

“I… I don’t need your money, Steve. I am the last person who needs your money.”

“I know. But it’s the thought that counts.”


	31. Digital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-relationship fluff.
> 
> Look out for Harry Potter and Doctor Who references.

Tony was no stranger to things flying at his head.

Often, he was flying right back at them.

But even he had to be brought up short by a radio zooming past, an inch from his nose, and crashing into the wall beside his head.

Jeez, couldn’t a man walk down his own hallway anymore?

Slowly, very slowly so as not to startle his apparent attacker, he turned his head to see a horrified Captain America gaping at him.

“Oh my… I… I’m so sorry! Tony, are you okay? Did I hit you? I’m sorry! I didn’t see you and I didn’t… I didn’t mean to throw the dang thing…”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up.” Tony held up his hands in a placating manner and sidestepped the jumble of smashed circuitry. “That was almost a real curse. Something must have you riled up.”

Steve glared but the tight worry lines around his eyes and brow didn’t fade.

“It’s not funny, I could’ve…”

“But you didn’t.” Tony cut him off with a shrug. “I’m fine. Not a scratch. If you were aiming for me then you should probably log a few hours with Birdbrain before going out in the field again. We don’t want that shield of yours going awry, do we?” He didn’t pause when the blond opened his mouth to protest, just ploughed forward with his babble. “But, seeing as it’s you, and you have all that outstanding moral fibre and such, you’re unlikely to lob a radio at someone’s head. Even mine.

“So,” He inclined his head back to the sad little mess. “What’d it do to piss you off?”

Steve sighed and his shoulders slumped, all the tension going out of him in that one breath and leaving him looking shame-faced and surly.

“I couldn’t work it.” He admitted, avoiding Tony’s eye and grumbling. “I couldn’t find the station I wanted. And I tried turning the dial on the front but that just made it louder and it was stuck on some stupid music thing and then it wouldn’t switch off and I just…” He waved a hand at the poor thing, making a frustrated noise.

“Oh.” Tony blinked, not really getting why that warranted wilful destruction of property. “Well, it’s a digital radio, you can just use the remote or…”

“I can’t work the remote!” Steve seethed, colour high in his cheeks and making his eyes shine even bluer than normal - oh, okay, where did that come from, Stark? “And I know it’s digital! Everything’s digital now it seems!”

He was spitting out the word with a venom Tony had seldom heard him use. And it was generally reserved for, you know, super-villains and such.

“Digital clocks. Digital television. Digital cameras. It’s the digital age and I can’t work a damn thing!”

He’d worked himself into a frenzy again and kicked out at a chair, promptly knocking it to my ground.

Ah. So it had finally happened. A part of Tony had been waiting for the good Captain to snap. True, he had adapted remarkably well to his new life. Well enough, even, that Tony had stopped making snarky ‘old man’ jokes so often and had actually offered to help if he could.

But, it didn’t matter how flexible you could be, missing out on seven decades was going to take a toll.

Before he had a chance to change his mind about doing something nice, he lunged forward and grabbed Steve’s hand, pulling him from the room.

“T-Tony!” The soldier spluttered. “What are you doing?!”

“Well, you just actually swore and you keep breaking my stuff so like hell I’m leaving you alone.” Tony dragged him along and tried not to think about how nice and warm his hand felt clasped like this. “And I think it’s high time I proved that the ‘digital age’ isn’t all that bad.”

Steve cocked his head in confusion but let himself be led down to the workshop he really only saw when he was trying to convince Tony to eat something.

“Jarvis!” Tony released his hand and made a beeline for the nearest holographic screen.

“Yes, sir?”

“Pull up one of those art gallery virtual tour thingamajigs.”

“Any particular gallery, sir?” Images and lines of gibberish flashed across the interface faster than Steve could figure out. Tony appeared to be having no trouble at all, which was odd, considering that the serum should have made it the other way around.

“What do you think, Cap? The Louvre?”

“Um…”

“No, you’re right. Too cliché. Show me the Musée d’Orsay and inter-lay it with the building blueprints.” Tony was flicking see-through objects back and forth with practised ease.

“Would you like me to complete a 3D rendering?”

“Of course I do.”

Steve was utterly confused. “Tony, what -“

“Shh, just watch. Now, project!”

The hologram expanded out and around them. They were suddenly surrounded by the slightly-translucent walls of a lavish art exhibit. Steve could see Van Goughs, Monets, Pissaros, and beyond them they were still among the junk and mechanics of the workshop.

His jaw dropped.

Tony smirked. “Not bad, huh?”

“H-how…?”

The shorter man chuckled and clapped a hand to his shoulder on his way past to go find coffee, his original mission and a convenient excuse to get away before he had to admit to himself what that expression of awe did to the butterflies in his stomach. “Welcome to the digital age.”

“Tony.” He stopped at the door. “I… I’ll pay for the radio.”

“Cap. Please.” He shot him a look. “Remember who you’re talking to.”


	32. Program

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though I may not personally agree with the religious connotations of the Twelve-Step Program, I thought it provided a nice little spin on the prompt and could prove an interesting challenge.

1) We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.

It took quite some time for Tony to realize he was addicted to Steve Rogers, but slowly it became painfully obvious to him that he could hardly do anything without thinking about the other man. About how he would react. If he would be angry or impressed. If he would laugh or frown.

It really shouldn’t have been as big of a surprise as it was. They had been dating for a while. Six weeks? Seven? He never was good at keeping track. But Tony was an essentially selfish being, so the feeling of commitment quite that strong to someone else was… odd.

 

2) Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

“Jarvis, I think I’m in love with Steve.”

“A staggering conclusion, sir. Might I ask, what was your first clue?”

“Shut up.”

 

3) Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

It was times like this that he thought picking up a religion at some point in his life might have been a good idea.

But he had no god to pray to or deity that could help.

All he had were numbers and metal and the sanctuary of his workshop. The stability of work was the only thing he could bring himself to believe in.

So that’s where he went, in good faith that he could figure this out.

 

4) Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

The first day involved a lot of drinking.

 

5) Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

“Hey, Pep.”

“Tony? Why are you calling this early? Did something happen?”

“No, no, I just… You know when we were together?”

“… I vaguely recall it, yes.”

“Right. Well… did I ever tell you I loved you?”

“… Tony, what’s this about.”

“Just… answer me. Please.”

“… no. No, you didn’t.”

“Okay. Thank you. And Pep?”

“Yes?”

“For the record, I did. And I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

 

6) Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

Changes had to be made, Tony knew that. He had broken apart what he’d had with Pepper.

He couldn’t do that to Steve.

Not over this.

 

7) Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

“For god’s sake, Stark, it’s only three words. You just need to walk up to him and say them. Stop being such a damn coward.”

 

8) Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

How many people had he actually loved? The sad truth that he had never loved his parents, not really, left a sour taste in his mouth.

There had been that girl, in school, older than him and the first to break his heart.

And there was Pepper.

And that was it.

Until now, in this odd little family they had become. The Avengers. A group of ragtag cousins who always got drunk together at the reunions.

And Steve.

 

9) Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

“Gloria, what’s this paperwork on my desk?”

“Mister Stark sent it over this morning.”

“… but it’s all signed. And dated. Properly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

10) Continued to take personal inventory, and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.

“Sir, might I recommend you talk to Captain Rogers soon? He has attempted to access the workshop a total of 27 times.”

“I know, Jarvis. I know. I’m just not ready yet.”

“It has been three days, sir. I believe he thinks you are angry with him.”

“… tell him that’s not right. Don’t tell him everything, just let him know I’m not mad.”

“Of course, sir.”

 

11) Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

Steve jumped up when Tony marched into what had become their room, looking more determined than he’d ever seen.

“Tony, what have yo-“

“Could you maybe just shush for, like, 30 seconds so I can say this before I lose my nerve? Then you can punch me out or, whatever. I’ve been a dick, I know but… please?”

Steve very slowly sat back down on the edge of the bed. “Okay…”

Tony ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, god… Alright, uh, Steve, I… I… I am hopeless at this. Okay, pull yourself together, hero.”

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I love you.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up.

“That’s what this has been about? You love me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re an idiot.” Steve tugged him down next to him for a sweet kiss. “But I love you too.”

 

12) Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

“So, Clint, when are we going to get you a girl?”

“Fuck off.”

“Alrighty, then.”


	33. Nun

Ah, movie night. Always entertaining.

Not so much for the movie itself, though they were steadily working their way through every blockbuster of the last 70 years to ‘catch Cap up’, but the pre-show was generally the best part.

It would begin with everyone trying to remember what theme they were trying to stick to this month.

Clint would forever argue that they were still in action movie territory, Natasha would vote for foreign cinema, Bruce would pretend to be above it all while pushing for a sci-fi classic, Thor would sit looking just as bewildered as Steve, and Tony would finally yell that it’s his tv and pick something at random.

This time, musicals.

“What about that Joss Whedon one? With the superheroes?”

“I think you mean supervillains and it’s Dr Horrible’s Sing-a-Long Blog. It’s also only 45 minutes long.” Natasha rolled her eyes. “I like Evita.”

“You like Antonio Banderas, you mean.” Clint shot back.

She shrugged. It was true.

“Isn’t he the guy from Zorro?” Steve piped up, trying to imagine the masked man in a dance number.

“That’s the one.” Bruce nodded. “That’s a bit depressing, though. How about Moulin Rouge?”

Tony choked on his soda. “And that’s less depressing?!”

“I was under the impression music was a form of rejoice. Why are there so many moving pictures of this kind based in melancholy?” Thor looked distinctly unimpressed.

“Music can express anything.” Steve supplied helpfully. “Can we watch Wizard of Oz?”

“Doesn’t count if you’ve already seen it, Spangles.” Tony shook his head. “We’re watching Sound of Music.”

“Why?” Clint pouted.

“Because it’s got cute kids, the chick from Mary Poppins and a group of nuns running circles around Nazis. On mountaintops.” Tony raised and eyebrow and looked pointedly at his boyfriend. The archer snorted.

“Nope, you’re right. Excellent choice.”

“Wait, there are Nazis in musicals?” Steve looked a tiny bit aghast.

Tony plopped down next to him and kissed his cheek. “Trust me.”

Around them, Thor stretched out comfortably, Natasha leaned into Clint like it was second nature, and Bruce folded his legs under him, pushing back his sleeves.

“Jarvis, dim the lights and play.”


	34. Exchange

Christmas in New York City. Beautiful, festive, romantic and, above all, cold.

Tucked away at the top of Avengers Tower, however, it was toasty and warm with a fire crackling away merrily. Tony had gone all-out, with elaborately decorated trees glistening from numerous corners and the air heavy with the scent of cinnamon cookies.

Not baked by him, thankfully. One fire was quite enough.

Steve had teased him about it at first, comparing him to an over-excited kid waiting for Santa Claus. Considering that not even the whole team were staying, it seemed a little excessive.

And then, of course, Tony had muttered something, intended as flippant but came out as heart-breaking, about it being his first ‘family Christmas’ and Steve had sort-of frozen for a minute before suggesting they get wreaths for everyone’s bedroom doors.

Clint and Bruce were the only others hanging around for the holidays. Thor was in New Mexico and had left laden down with gifts and very vocally excited about celebrating his first Midgardian banquet with Jane. He was still feeling exceptionally guilty about not being on Earth for Thanksgiving with her, it seemed.

Natasha was in Greece, as far as they knew, seducing some shady businessman so she could then beat the crap out of him. Clint had assured them she didn’t really care all that much about Christmas anyway. Still, there were presents waiting for her under a few of the trees to open when she came back.

The archer himself was inexplicably gloomy. He put on a grin around Tony, clearly because he could see how hard the man was trying, but Steve noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes and how forlorn he looked when he thought no one was looking.

Bruce was, well, Bruce. He seemed content with just letting the festive period run its course and not stand in its way.

Tony in response became, the closer to the 25th they got, something akin to the most determined elf in existence. He wrapped Bruce’s lab in tinsel and fairy lights. He presented Clint with multi-colored candy canes every day. And Steve kept finding ‘To Santa’ letterhead stationery mixed in with his art supplies.

Each time, he gave it back to Tony with a smile and an “I’m not helping you pick out my present.”

Each time, Tony’s pout became more pronounced.

They all decided to wait until after dinner to do the exchange of gifts. Given their crazy and varied sleeping patterns, first thing in the morning wasn’t really an option, seeing as how that meant 4am for Clint, 6am for Steve, around 9ish for Bruce and late afternoon for Tony.

The meal was, well, extravagant. And delicious too. But mostly the first one.

Steve had been a little uncomfortable with them hiring a chef to cook for the night. Wouldn’t they have their own family to cook for? Tony had waved off his concerns with a practised air. The reason why became apparent when the middle-aged woman arrived at midday.

“I volunteered.” she laughed. “Heard you guys needed some chow. Figured I owed you seeing as how my restaurant was one of the places that woulda gone up if you hadn’t taken care of that bomb thing a few weeks back.”

He was then shooed out of the kitchen, assured she would call if she needed a hand.

Which, as the full table proved, she most definitely didn’t.

“Well,” Tony stood up at his head seat with a regal air and glass in hand. “A toast. To the world for not blowing up yet, thanks to us, to Fury for not calling us out today, thanks to me and some fabricated blackmail, and to the year for not sucking entirely. Merry Christmas, heroes.”

Clint snorted and drained the remainder of his wine. Bruce laughed a little, shaking his head, and had a sip of water.

Steve nudged Tony’s leg with his foot, trying to keep up a disapproving ‘that was not appropriate’ face and failing tremendously.

Tony grinned.

“Shame the others couldn’t make it.” Bruce commented, tucking in.

“We did invite Jane to New York so Thor could stay but she’s in the middle of some research. Eric said it was a miracle they could get her to take a break tonight.” Steve’s eyes slid to Tony. “Not that we have any idea what that’s like.”

Tony gasped in mock offence. “I have been nothing short of wonderful this week.”

“For once.”

“You,” Clint butted in, brandishing a fork-speared chipolata. “Have been so freaking hyper I was pretty sure you found a way to concentrate caffeine levels in coffee without killing yourself.”

“It’s the festive spirit, you Grinch!”

Clint rolled his eyes while Bruce and Steve laughed.

“Fine.” Tony huffed. “No presents. For any of you. Because you’re mean.”

“Aw, come on.” Steve leaned in beside him. “I want to know what you got me.”

His breath was ghosting over Tony’s ear as he spoke and the billionaire turned an impressive shade of pink.

“… fine.”

Clint and Bruce laughed harder.

The inevitable food-fight broke out over pudding and resulted in them leaving the table with smears of cream on their faces and clothes and small bits of fruit in their hair.

Nobody seemed to care much.

Tony scurried over to the tree and retrieved three parcels from underneath. Bruce excused himself and headed to his lab to get theirs. Steve did the same, going to his nowadays seldom-used room, and Clint climbed the bookcase to retrieve wrapped gifts from the air duct.

“You’re weird.” Tony informed him once he’d sat down.

“I consider that an achievement coming from you.”

The group were suddenly rather self-conscious when gathered. Boxes and parcels changed hands with mumbled ‘thank you’s and then they all sat with them in their lap, unsure of how to continue.

It was a sad fact that none of them were really caught up with present-opening etiquette.

Tony, forever impatient, decided to hell with it.

“Dig in, stiffs!” He tore into the brightly coloured paper with gusto, opening his one from Clint first and prompting everyone to follow.

What he uncover was a shoebox with a tiny booklet inside. He was a little disappointed until he read the pages, all twenty reading the same thing.

‘This token entitles the holder to one meal cooked by Clint Barton.’

“You’re a freaking nightmare to shop for.” he grumbled. “What the hell am I supposed to buy a billionaire on my salary?”

He in turn opened a set of fingerless gloves with a matching scarf from Bruce. The were in his black and purple uniform colours and had little pictures of bows and arrows.

Steve got a set of watercolour paints from the scientist and thanked him profusely.

Bruce himself uncovered a self-stirring mug from Steve, complete with a selection of his favourite teas.

Tony had moved on to his gift from Bruce as well, practically bouncing in excitement.

He was not disappointed, doubling over in laughter when he opened a framed blow-up of a tabloid the day after Tony announced his and Cap’s relationship, ‘Everyone’s A Little Gay For Captain America’ emblazoned across the top.

Steve peeked at it, groaned a little, and turned away to open his present from Clint. Which turned out to be a copy of ‘Sex For Dummies’.

He dropped his head into his hands while Tony cackled.

“Really, Clint? Really?”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, man.” The archer tipped him a wink and opened his gift from Steve: a children’s spy kit. “Oh, cool!”

“I’m almost scared to open this one now…” Bruce unwrapped the package from Clint to find a cardboard radio.

They had deliberately left the bundles wrapped in red and gold for last. Clint picked his up gingerly.

“This isn’t going to blow up or something, right?”

“What do you take me for?” Tony’s indignation wasn’t exactly reassuring when he was grinning like a loon.

Bruce shrugged and ripped off the paper, immediately dissolving into chuckles. It was a pair of bongos.

“Just in case. You know.” Tony shrugged, still smiling manically. “Your turn, Birdbrain.”

Clint held his boxy package out at arms-length before tearing back a corner. Then a little more. And then the rest, expression matching Tony’s.

“Oh, sweetheart, how did you know?” he mock-fawned, examining the inflatable nest-sofa.

Steve and Bruce laughed heartily and Tony turned to his partner.

“Alright, Capsicle. Moment of truth.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t opened yours yet.”

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“Uh, Clint, I think we’d better leave them to it.” Bruce tugged at the other man’s elbow, looking amused.

“Good idea. We’ll be back in ten. If you two lovebirds haven’t manned up by then, I’ll open them.”

They left, carrying their presents between them and debating whether or not putting the nest on the roof would be a good idea.

“Well, I think my plan to cheer up Clint paid off.” Tony smiled.

“You knew? I thought he had you fooled.”

“Please. I am the master of faking smiles. Of course I knew. Now open your present.”

Steve looked down at the small, square package and bit his lip.

“How about we open them together?”

Tony nodded. “Together. Okay. We can do together.”

They looked up at each other and laughed nervously. Neither was very sure why this was such a big deal. Maybe because it was their first Christmas together. Maybe because it was the first Christmas Steve had a partner to buy a present for. Maybe because Tony gave Steve presents all the time but this was the first one that was expected.

“Count of three?”

“Count of three. 1…”

“2…”

“3!”

They tore the packets open. A small-ish jewellery box was left in Steve’s hand, and a bigger one in Tony’s.

“I really hope we haven’t gotten the same thing.” Steve commented, giving his box a light shake and hearing a pleasant jangle.

“I doubt it.” Tony mumbled, blushing a little. “Shall we?”

They flipped back the lids.

Tony found what appeared to be an old-fashioned fob-watch on a chain. When he clicked it open, however, it turned out to be a digital one, emitting a faint blue glow that highlighted the inscription.

‘To Tony, For proving that late is definitely better than never. Steve.’

He looked up, throat suddenly tight, to see Cap with tears in his eyes.

“Tony…” He lifted out the dogtags from the box. They were stamped with: Stark, Anthony E., Iron Man, 987-65-4320, O Negative, No Religious Pref.

“Well, you know, I have yours so I thought… Asked Rhodey for a favour. I… Do you not like them? I can take them back. Just… Uh, just give them…”

“No.” Steve shook his head and slid the chain around his neck while Tony watched. “They’re… they’re perfect. Thank you.”

“Yours too.” Tony looked back down at the inscription, the watch’s metal edge biting into his skin with his tight grip, hand shaking slightly. “I… I… I actually can’t think of anything else to say. How about that?”

He raised his head again to find Steve much closer than before.

“It’s a Christmas miracle. Tony Stark - speechless.”

Tony laughed breathlessly, eyes on the blond’s lips.

They leaned in to meet together.

Over at the doorway, Clint and Bruce backed up quietly, leaving their friends to it.


	35. Input

Jarvis has watched Tony Stark.

It has been his job to clean up his messes, help with his work, lend a sympathetic ear. This has been his job for as long as he has existed.

And he has always done it alone.

Pepper remembered to do it when Jarvis reminded her.

Rhodey would call once a week because Jarvis put a reminder in his phone.

Jarvis did not know what to do about Steve Rogers. He did not need reminders.

Steve Rogers would come into the workshop. He was never locked out. Steve Rogers brought food. It was always eaten. Steve Rogers made Tony Stark go to bed. He was never ignored.

Jarvis was not sure he approved of Steve Rogers.

The visual and auditory input indicated that Steve Rogers cared for Tony Stark.

Their progression from colleagues to sexual partners supported this.

Jarvis was waiting for Steve Rogers to leave.

One thing he had learned about humanity, through the scope of his creator’s life, was that people always leave. Jarvis could not leave, and would always be the one to clean up the messes left behind.

To fix what was broken.

Steve Rogers would leave. Tony Stark would be broken.

But months passed, and Steve Rogers did not leave.

There were times it looked likely, where the math and probability calculations painted it as an inevitability.

Steve Rogers always came back.

Eventually, Jarvis concluded that he always would.

Tony Stark made Steve Rogers smile. The effort to do so never failed. Tony Stark woke Steve Rogers from nightmares. They never went unnoticed. Tony Stark taught Steve Rogers. He only had to ask.

The visual and auditory input indicated that Steve Rogers needed Tony Stark.

Tony Stark could not let him leave. Steve Rogers would be broken.

Jarvis would assist.

Jarvis decided to trust Steve Rogers.


	36. Basis

Some say the basis of a good relationship is trust. Others loyalty. A few say honesty. Some even say love.

And there are those fuckers who chalk it up to a good sex life.

Tony had a different theory.

Oh, he and Steve trusted each other, of course they did. They battled side-by-side safe in the belief the other will watch their back. They have seen each other at their worst, their best, and their most vulnerable. Trust is not an issue.

And they’re loyal. Backstabbing is not in the nature of either, Steve with his upstanding morals and Tony with his multiple experiences on the other side of that particular board.

Honesty was more of a grey area. They told each other the really important stuff. Mostly. But they both had jobs involving insane security clearances. And Tony has a habit of hiding injuries. And Steve doesn’t like to admit when he can’t cope. But they manage. And, really, they always know anyway.

Love? Yeah, try to even imply they don’t love each other and see what happens to you.

As for the sex, well, Steve may be the kind to not kiss and tell, but Tony is not the kind to have a mind-blowing sex-life with Captain America and shut up about it.

All of this and more makes up their relationship.

But it is Tony’s belief that the basis of it, the foundation everything else is built on top of, is understanding.

Understanding for the boy who should have grown up feeling lucky for what he had, but instead just felt unloved. For the misunderstood genius who was judged and scrutinized long before he knew how to handle that pressure. For the man who cries over memories and mourns the long dead and who can barely look himself in the mirror sometimes. For the blood on his hands and his screams at night. Steve understands.

Understanding for the kid from Brooklyn who was left alone in a world full of things and people too big for him to fight. For the soldier who was changed forever by the things he saw and did, and what was done to him. For the man out of time who did the right thing and lost everyone he loved for his trouble. For the pain and courage it takes to move on. Tony understands.

Understanding.

Understanding and redemption.

They understand.


	37. Mileage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, sorry about the wait.

“So who the hell told you it was my birthday?”

“Tony, your date of birth is in your file and on every piece of paperwork pertaining to you that I have had to sign in the past year.” Steve grinned. “Also, the fact that Pepper invited us all to the black-tie dinner in your honour this weekend was a bit of a give-away.”

“Right. There’s that thing. Which means there is absolutely no reason for us to do anything else.”

He was eyeing the brightly wrapped present in Steve’s hands like it might bite him.

Steve sighed. For some reason, he had just known Tony was going to be difficult about this. Was it so bad that he wanted to treat his boyfriend on his birthday? Luckily, he planned ahead.

“Oh.” He hunched his shoulders and looked down, fidgeting. “I just thought… It’s fine. I’ll go put this away.” Okay, it was mean. And he felt a teensy bit bad about the way Tony’s eyes widened to unnatural size in panic. But it was also so totally worth it.

Tony scrambled over to him, dropping a stack of papers and stammering like an idiot.

“No! No, it’s good, yay, birthday! Let’s do this. Gimme the present. I love the present. I’m sure it’s wonderful. You’re wonderful. Don’t be sad, please?”

Steve beamed. “Great! Now, come on, everyone’s waiting.”

Before Tony’s eyes even had time to narrow in suspicion, Steve grabbed his hand and dragged him from the lab and upstairs to the rec room where, surprise surprise, everyone was indeed waiting.

With balloons and party poppers and cheesy music and a huge ice cream cake.

A part of Tony, a pretty big part, truth be told, felt he should probably protest at being given an eight-year-old’s party. But the rest of him, as the grumpiness abated, realized what they were trying to do. And since he honestly couldn’t remember the last birthday celebration he’d had where he actually liked everyone in the room, he went with it.

He smiled. He laughed. He ate junk food and threw chips at Clint.

And, when he got a chance to sit down and catch his breath, he even kissed his boyfriend.

“Thank you.”

Steve flushed and lowered his eyes. “You know, you never did open your present.”

He handed the box over with a small smile. Tony held it up to his ear and shook it.

“Is it a Ferrari? Because, you know, I’ve already got one of those.”

Steve snorted and nudged his shoulder. “Just open it, idiot.”

He laughed and did.

It was a framed photo of them both from, he noticed, their first press conference after becoming ‘official’.

Steve was looking put-together and professional, if a little pink, and Tony was cackling madly at something or other. Their hands were joined.

There weren’t a lot of pictures of them side-by-side. The height difference was far too apparent for his liking in most of them. But there was something else too. Steve still had the face of a twenty-something soldier. Tony… did not.

He traced the clear laughter lines and creases around his eyes with his ring finger.

“You like it?”

Tony smiled and nodded. Steve wasn’t fooled.

“Come on, what’s wrong? I can get you something else. A computer thingy or something.” He smiled, cajoling. “If you’ll excuse this old man’s incompetence.”

“You know… joking aside, I’m older than you. By a good bit, actually.”

“Tony, I’m 94.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but you slept through most of it.” Tony smiled and tapped the light shining through his t-shirt. “I’ve still got more miles on the clock than you. I mean, I know I wear them well, but still.”

“And?”

“Does it bother you?”

“What? Why would it?”

“You don’t want, you know…” Tony flailed a hand in a vague motion. “Something else? Someone younger?”

“Tony.” And, oops, Steve was frowning now. “If I wanted something else, anyone else, do you really think I‘d leave it this long to tell you?”

“Well…” Fair point.

“I love you, you idiot.” Steve ruffled his already chaotic hair. “That’s not changing any time soon.”

Tony laughed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. Laughing on his birthday, what next, flying pigs?

He leaned into Steve’s ear. “I guess that makes you an idiot too, Cap.”

“Probably.” he agreed, and then kissed him.


	38. Least

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some people might disagree with the storylines I’ve set out here. I’ve pretty much deviated completely from the comicverse. Hopefully, it’s not too awful.

Being happy is the least that anyone deserves.

This a belief Steve has held close to his heart his entire life. It was part of the reason he hated bullies so much. Why would you go out of your way to torment someone and make them miserable for no good reason? No one needs that.

And it was why, once he had finally gotten to a point of being able to think of the past fondly, not as a series of regrets, he wanted to make sure those he loved had been happy.

Jarvis helped guide him through using a search engine and navigating online records.

He found Peggy first.

Margaret “Peggy” Carter served with the US Army for two years after Captain America hit the ice. Then she returned home to the UK and joined the Secret Service along with, and Steve had to smile, James Montgomery Falsworth. A lot of their service records were classified by British Intelligence but, from what he could make out, they enjoyed long, successful careers.

And a married life, apparently, since he found a wedding certificate from 1951.

Montgomery was killed in action eleven years later, leaving behind Peggy and their son, James. Peggy retired early, married again (this time to a French ambassador) and had a good life. Two grandkids, a big house, people who loved her until she passed away in 2008. Peacefully.

She had been happy, he thought.

As for the rest of the Commandos, Dum Dum and Gabe lived long enough to retire as heroes. They were still knocking around, incredibly, at a nursing home for veterans in Florida. Steve made a mental note to visit as soon as possible.

Jim Morita died in 9/11. That didn’t seem fair, somehow.

And then there was Howard.

Steve looked at his achievements and awards. At the pictures of him and Maria and thinks, maybe, he was happy. For a while at least.

But after a certain point, he just seemed to give up on the important stuff in favour of his work. He pushed aside his wife and Tony for the company.

He considered the Howard Stark he remembered, the slightly unhinged genius who was never happier than with a drink or a wrench in hand. Maybe it was the pursuit of that happiness that destroyed him.

“Hey, Cap. Whatcha looking at?”

Steve turned just in time to see Tony’s smile falter. To see his eyes slide from the picture of his father on screen to the Army dogtags in Steve’s hand.

At some point during his reading they had migrated from their usual place around his neck to his palm, a thumb worrying the metal surface as he learned the fates of his old friends.

“I was just, uh, looking up some history. Did you know two of my old unit are still living out in Florida?”

“Oh?” The genius looked a little mollified and borderline interested. “How’d you manage to track them down?”

“Jarvis lent a hand.” Steve smiled in a general upward direction, as everyone but Tony seemed to do when addressing the AI.

“My pleasure, Captain.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “I’m really not sure how I feel about you two being in cahoots.”

Steve laughed. “Cahoots? Really?”

“You must be rubbing off on me, old man.” Tony grinned and came closer to inspect Howard’s picture. “Oh, I remember this. The college dedication, right? I had to wear the most god-awful tie in existence.”

“You were there?” Steve was surprised. A little mental arithmetic put his partner at nine years old at the time.

“Yeah. Just there.” He pointed to a kid standing off to the side of the stage, hair combed and wearing an adorable little bow-tie.

Steve couldn’t help himself.

“Aww.” he cooed, leaning in for a better look. “You’re so cute!”

Tony sniffed haughtily. “Sure. Well, I’ll leave you to it, I guess.”

He turned to go and Steve caught his hand.

“Hey.” He considered a moment and then held out his dogtags. “Here. I want you to have them.”

Tony’s eyebrows quirked up but he accepted the gift. “Um, thanks… Are you sure? Aren’t these things kinda important?”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve already lived the past. You’re my future. That’s kinda important too.”

Tony gaped at him for a second before swallowing hard and draping the chain around his neck.

There was a dull clink as the tags immediately stuck to the reactor.

They both stared.

“… I’ll fix that.” Tony finally promised, still looking at them somewhat oddly.

Steve chortled and turned off his screen. He got up and took Tony’s hand.

“Come on, I’ll draw in the corner while you zap them with lasers or something.”

“Oh, there’s an idea…”

Steve’s heart felt lighter as he watched Tony’s face light up with enthusiasm.

Being happy is the least that anyone deserves.

And making someone happy is a rare privilege.


	39. Stream

Somehow, Steve thought, this shouldn’t be adorable.

But it was.

Tony was horizontal, limbs hanging askew off the sofa at various angles. There were pages of calculations and diagrams clutched in his hand, piled on his rising and falling chest, and strewn across the floor.

He was also fast asleep.

“Jarvis?” Steve couldn’t keep the amused tone out of his voice.

“Sir has been like this for the past hour and twelve minutes, Captain Rogers.” the AI responded without needing to be asked, sounding fairly amused as well.

Steve approached his sleeping partner carefully. Tony mumbled a little and curled to one side.

Yup. Adorable.

The soldier checked his watch. If they didn’t leave soon they’d be late. But the dark circles under Tony’s eyes made a far more convincing argument than a ticking watch.

“Jarvis, could you cancel our dinner reservations, please? I’m sure Tony can introduce me to sushi another night.”

“Of course, Captain. Would you like anything sent down?”

“A plate of whatever everyone else is having would be great.”

“I shall inform Agent Barton.”

“Thank you.”

Steve removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the nearest chair before going to find the sketchbook he usually kept in the workshop.

When Clint stuck his head in fifteen minutes later with a tray of food, it was to the sight of a blanket-covered Tony snuggled up on the loveseat and Steve settled on the floor, head against the armrest and pencil in hand.

“Well, that explains why date-night’s cancelled.” He handed over the food and Steve smiled his thanks.

“You know, you are all far too invested in our lovelife.”

Clint blinked then smirked. “We’re living vicariously through you. Face it, Captain - you two are about as close to a stable relationship as any of us are likely to get.”

Now there was a scary thought.

Later, once he’d eaten his fill and piled his dishes neatly, he heard Tony’s voice and jumped, suddenly feeling a little guilty for watching him sleep.

“Readjust the meter resolution… increase tolerance… 15 and 1/8 inches away from the curve…”

Steve hovered over him for a moment. Nope, he was definitely still asleep. And still muttering away.

“Calibrate… need to… higher point variables… Can’t… if wind speed is more than… re-angle flaps by six degrees… else decrease tension… twenty four…”

Well, he couldn’t make heads or tails of that.

“Um, Jarvis? What’s he talking about?”

“I believe Sir is redesigning SHIELD’s Quinjets, Captain.”

“In his sleep?”

“Some of his best work has come from unconscious engineering. The Mark VII, for example. I am required to make a record of all audio output he makes while sleeping, just in case.”

“Wow.”

It was common knowledge that Tony was smart, but sometimes, something would happen to remind Steve of just how big a genius he really was and he’d be blown away.

And actually, him talking in his sleep made an alarming amount of sense. Steve often thought that the reason Tony always talked so much was to force his mind into slowing down enough to actually keep up with the ideas that ran through there.

“So he does this a lot?”

“His stream of conciousness makes itself known verbally on a fairly regular basis, yes.”

Tony shifted, stretching out a little. “Wings… have to… connect control… closed system… add CF…”

The blond smiled fondly at the monologue of what might as well have been nonsense and smoothed the slumbering man’s hair back from his forehead.

“Mm… Steve…”

He froze, under the impression he’d been caught. But, no, Tony was still under.

Steve bit his lip and crouched down a little.

“… Tony?” he whispered.

Said man groaned a little and sighed. “… mm-hmm?”

He paused. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Tony mumbled and turned, hugging a cushion to his chest.

Steve stared at his back, a smile stretching out across his face. They hadn’t said it before. Not yet. It had seemed too much, to admit it so soon. He hadn’t wanted to scare Tony off.

Apparently, that was a fear unfounded.

He settled back in place with his sketchpad, resolving not to ever mention what just happened. Tony would come to the conclusion consciously in his own time. That revelation wasn’t something he wanted to take away.

“Jarvis? Is there any chance you could not tell him about that last part?”

“It would appear my systems failed to record it, Captain.”

Steve ducked his head, smiling, and went back to drawing Dummy.

About five minutes later, Tony started and shot up into sitting position behind him.

“Wha-? Oh, hi… Didn’t we have a date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Tony's revelation can be found in chapter 32 :)


	40. Resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another pairing crops up here. While they may occasionally crop up from now on, they will never again feature this much. I can guarantee that. So, if you don’t ship it, please don’t be put off my little series :3

This was so incredibly unfair.

Tony thought he’d grown a lot as a person over the past few years. He was more open with people, he didn’t put himself first all the time, he’d dedicated his fortune and life to saving people and helping the planet.

Really, he had proven he was a good guy.

He was also a badass.

At least once a week he fought psychos and war criminals and super-villains and monsters. He was still alive and in possession of all his faculties. The majority of them weren’t.

And yet, after all that, this was how he was going to die. Hungover to hell, half-naked, and at the hands of Justin Fucking Hammer.

Like he said, unfair.

“Didn’t you die or something?”

“I had you fooled, didn’t I, Tony? I fooled everyone.” Hammer, apparently very pleased with himself and his master plan, waved his gun around in a manner that really wasn’t conducive to weapons safety. “No one looks for a dead man, Anthony.”

“Right.” Well, clearly prison had finally cracked this douchebag. “So, you fake your death, break out, kidnap me and then, what? Kill me and get carted off in handcuffs again? Great plan. I flatter myself there’s a few people who won’t be too happy with you. Including a Hulk. So, you know…”

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you.” Spittle. Nice, Justin, nice. “There’s a lot of people who will pay really big bucks for me to hand over the great Anthony Stark to them. I’ve had a lot of offers.”

“I’ll bet.”

This went on for some time. Hammer, ranting and raving his way through a downright psychotic monologue.

Tony, tuning him out.

A gunshot ringing out broke the pattern quite decisively. Tony blinked and dragged his eyes from Hammer crying and bleeding on the ground to the man responsible.

Phil Coulson lowered his gun.

“Mr. Stark, do you know how much paperwork I have to fill out when you get yourself kidnapped on company time?”

*

“You died.”

“For a few minutes, yes.”

Coulson sipped from his coffee mug, seemingly unconcerned by the arrow currently pointing at his face and the patented Stark glare being sent his way.

Natasha seemed amused, Bruce was apparently in shock, Thor didn’t seem to understand why resurrection was such a big deal, and Steve was torn between asking Tony, once again, if he was okay and throwing his shield between Clint and Phil.

Seeing as how the archer’s expression suggested there was a very good chance he was planning to kill their newly restored agent.

“Can we all just try to calm down? Please?” The good Captain sounded pretty desperate.

“Fury.” Clint snarled, showing no signs of lowering his weapon.

“Lied.” The agent was still perfectly calm. “It was the best option at the time.”

“Six. Fucking. Months.” Hawkeye may have been tearing up. “Phil. How… How could you…?”

“I had no choice.” And his voice was steely. Hard. Brooking no argument.

There was a tense silence. Bruce was breathing normally again, Thor was frowning just slightly, Tony was still glaring and both Steve and Natasha’s eyes were flicking back and forth across the stand-off.

Phil and Clint didn’t break eye contact.

Slowly, the bow dropped. Steve slumped in relief.

And then, faster than anyone’s eyes could follow, Clint’s fist swung out and clocked his handler right across the face.

“You bastard.”

Phil was bent over and clutching his jaw when he was pulled into a forgiving kiss by his assailant.

Four people gaped. Natasha full out grinned.

“Well.” Tony said weakly as the pair broke apart. “That explains a lot.”


	41. Plate

“Steve?”

“Mmhmm?”

“My plate is smiling at me.”

“Indeed it is.”

A pause.

“Steve?”

“Yes Tony?”

“Why is my plate smiling at me?”

“Because it’s hardly worth having pancakes with eggs and bacon if it doesn’t smile at you.”

Another pause.

“You are so weird.”

“As are you.”

“You love it.”

“Likewise.”

Smiles.


	42. Work

“Tony, come to bed.”

“I’m working.” the engineer snapped, barely glancing back at his boyfriend, standing slumped in the doorway.

Steve hesitated before walking over to the chair he’d come to call his own down in the workshop. He watched Tony’s hunched shoulders steadily as the other man threw projected calculations violently across the room, muttering to himself.

“… I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Well, you’re going to be here a while then, aren’t you?” he spat venomously. “Because I. Am. Working.”

Each word was punctuated by a clatter as he slammed his fist down onto the workbench. A moment of silence passed before hitched sobs were shaking his frame, unacknowledged as he continued to work, snatching up a spanner.

Steve swallowed and twisted his hands in his lap.

“I didn’t mean it.”

Tony paused.

“Just… go. Please, Steve, I… I need to work.” He sounded so damn tired.

“I need to know you don’t hate me.” And Steve sounded so damn small.

There was another stretch of silence, this one longer. Tony didn’t turn around. It was thick in the air between them, like a barrier that needed to be broken, but couldn’t shatter without shrapnel.

“I don’t hate you.” Tony said quietly, firmly. “Now please go.”

“We should talk about this.”

“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?!” Tony finally span around, glaring wide-eyed at the soldier. His captain. “I saved everyone didn’t I? I’m still in one piece, aren’t I? What more do you fucking want from me?”

“To maybe tell us what the hell you’re doing when you drop out the air.” And there it was. The thread of authority. Anger.

“There was no time!” He was shouting now, giving up his last pretence of calm. “I had a plan and it worked, sue me!”

“That’s the problem!” Steve stood and regretted it almost instantly as he towered over Tony. It was too late to back down, though. “You had a plan. We’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to work together so near misses don’t happen. So I’m not screaming down the comm line wondering if you survived or not!”

“What the hell do you care? I’m just a liability, right? That’s what you said?”

Steve broke eye contact.

“Oh, no, don’t wuss out on me now, O Captain, my Captain! You were happy enough to yell it at me in front of half of SHIELD. So go ahead! Tell me how you really feel. I can take it. I’m made of iron, remember?”

“I thought you were dead!” Steve erupted. He shrank in on himself, breathing hard and staring at his feet. “I thought… I…”

He had a lot of things to be ashamed of in his life. He could own up to that. And grabbing Tony when he touched down, gripping the metal so hard it hurt and screaming in his face while a crowd of agents looked on, that… that was right up there with the worst.

But.

“I thought I’d lost you. I can’t… I can’t lose someone else, Tony. Not you. Not… I can’t do it. There’s not enough of me left.”

Silence. A clatter. Footsteps.

“Then you’re in the wrong line of work, Cap. And you’re in the wrong relationship.”

Steve’s head snapped up, ready to protest, and Tony quieted him with a raised hand. He was looking him dead in the eyes.

“I am not invincible. I am stupid and I take risks. I will always, always take the hit if it means you don’t have to. If it means keeping our team safe.” He grit his teeth. “If you can’t accept that… then this will never work.”

He turned and went back to whatever he had been doing.

Steve stayed for a few minutes more, then left in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Work can interfere with and destroy even the best relationships. Hard jobs are hard on the ones we love.
> 
> The fight will be resolved in chapter 47.


	43. Decrease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and the short chapter.
> 
> The fight in #42 will be resolved in #47.

They knew they had to start pulling back when Steve’s hair began turning grey, silver strands appearing among the gold. Tony had been rocking the salt’n’pepper look for years already, since way before the idea of retirement had even been on the table.

But now his joints hurt after long days and Steve’s reactions weren’t what they used to be.

Now there were younger, fitter superheroes coming out of the woodwork every day and Captain America and Iron Man were being called on less and less.

The workload was decreasing with age.

And, weirdly, they were okay with that.

They were okay with the weeks between missions that they could spend together, doing the things they loved. They were okay with lazy days and museum days and work days where Tony wore a suit and Steve brought him lunch.

They were okay with Steve’s part time job at the Met and Tony only upgrading his suit every few months.

They were okay with leaving the world-saving part of their lives behind them.

With being happy.

They missed it sometimes. Of course they did. And a part of each of them occasionally wanted to dust off their old uniforms when they watched the latest catastrophe reported on the news.

But they both knew, in their very core, that they would have regretted missing this life together so much more.


	44. Tiger

On reflection, they should have expected the tiger print underwear.

Not that it was often Tony got caught off-guard. And he wasn’t even meant to be there. It wasn’t a PR stunt, just a decision to walk to his lunch date with Steve instead of taking the car.

And then the puppies.

He would deny it to his dying day, but two kids selling off ickle puppies from a cardboard box in the park was the kind of thing that distracted Tony Stark.

He was scratching the ears of a persistent little thing that had tried to gnaw off his thumb when the first shot rang out.

Well, less of a shot. More of a lazer blast. From a canon.

Fucking AIM.

By the time Happy caught up with the suitcase suit, a good deal of Tony’s clothing had been disintegrated, And now he was being mocked for his fashion choices in his own sitting room by a bunch of free-loading superheroes.

"I mean," Clint started, watching the news footage being replayed again. “I could understand if there was a theme going on. Was there a theme? Steve, are you sporting leopard print under there?”

The Captain said nothing, determinedly not laughing from his spot beside a huffy Tony.

"I will have you know, Legolas, that there was a highly seductive and tactful build up involved in the scenario. And I refuse to take criticism from a man who has a literal nest in the air vents. Yes, I know about it. The cleaner bots will be set loose at the earliest opportunity.”

"No they won’t." Steve put an arm around him and pulled him into his side, smiling a little too widely.

"You, you are not allowed to find this funny, Rogers. That is unacceptable and unbecoming of a man of your stature.”

"I think as a man whose boyfriend is on TV in jungle themed underwear, he’s entitled to laugh as much as he likes." Natasha smirked, eyes never leaving the screen. "Nice legs, by the way."

Bruce snorted.

"Traitor." Tony shot at him grumpily.

"I am interested in how you came up with anything remotely ‘tactful’ involving… those." Steve said, laughter obvious in his voice now. "If you don’t mind sharing."

"There were roses also."

"Ah."

"I am surrounded by ungrateful lodgers of mockery. And horrible manners. Jarvis, have all of their things thrown out. They’re evicted."

“Right away, sir.” And thank fuck the AI didn’t sound amused. “Should I do that before or after I have Dummy fetch the first aid kit?”

Dammit.

"Traitor." Tony growled again, sliding down in his seat. Because the laughter had stopped.

"Tony?" Yikes, that was Steve’s ‘I’m worried and upset but I’ll try to hide it’ tone and it sounded worse every time he used it. Which was worryingly often, actually. "Are you hurt? Why didn’t you say anything? How bad is it?"

"I’m fine."

"Stark, considering I can have a medical team here in under five minutes, I suggest you answer the Captain." Coulson said mildly from his chair in the corner. Up until that moment, Tony had been blessing the man for continuing on with his paperwork after declaring no interest in seeing his half naked rear in panoramic high definition.

"I… have a few scratches. That’s it."

"Prove it." Clint countered.

Tony groaned and flopped his head back against the sofa, tugging at the SHIELD scrubs he was wearing. “I would have thought you’d seen me bare enough for one day.”

"Tony." And it was hard, so hard, to drag his eyes around to meet Steve’s pinched ones. "Please."

"I’m fine." he reiterated softly. "It’s just not really advisable to wear the armour without much underneath. Plates shift. Things get caught. I’m fine. SHIELD wouldn’t have let me leave the scene otherwise."

He tried for a smile. “Promise.”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I could take a look?" Bruce offered.

"No." And it wasn’t Tony who answered. "No, it’s okay."

It was, however, Tony who squawked while being hoisted into his boyfriend’s arms and into the air.

"There’s a first aid kit upstairs. Tony has to tell me all about his seductive plans." Steve headed for the stairs, carrying an indignant billionaire along for the ride.

And he swore he could hear them all laughing again in their wake.


End file.
